[center][color=00a99d][h2]Ernest Mars[/h2][/color][/center] [center][img]http://i68.tinypic.com/63x8xz.jpg[/img][/center] [center][img]http://i.imgur.com/3R5vYYi.png?2[/img][/center][hr][center][color=silver]𝕄: π•Šπ•–π•‘π•₯. πŸ™πŸœ, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘 / / π•Œπ•Šπ”Έβ„π•€π•ƒβ„• 𝔼𝕒𝕀π•₯ / / β„‚π•’π•žπ•‘π•¦π•€ / / πŸ™πŸœπŸ˜πŸ˜[/color][/center][hr] He was ready when they arrived. It was his own way of taking what little control he had over these circumstances. When the soldiers came to collect him, Ernie was sitting in the foyer of the administration building they had been briefed in that morning, listening to something on his phone and hugging a backpack to his chest. Lunch had been consumed. His backpack was packed with everything he usually brought to missions, along with some new equipment he’d requested on Tuesday. He was dressed in his combat outfit; loose navy blue singlet, cargo pants, and work boot. Almost identical to what he wore for the game on Monday, apart from the dark jacket to defend against the weather and his hair tied to keep it out of his face. His dorm possessions had been packed into neat boxes and given to some fellow transfers from West. If the worst came to pass, Ernie didn’t want his detergent collection to get thrown into some USARILN dumpster by the guards. Being prepared was good. Failing to prepare was preparing to fail, right? But as the time crept closer towards the mission, as the minutes passed without Marc or Cal to distract him from the near-inevitable, more and more did Ernie feel that he could do nothing but sit in that lobby and wait. Just wait, and nothing else. Because nothing he could do personally would have any effect on that beast. At least the wishalloy was something to look forward to. A safety net in case his rope failed him like it had against Allison. Ernie craved that extra sense of security. The parts about contact-dependent powers and pockets was rather concerning though. He’d need to leave his arms and shoulders untouched if he wanted to move around quickly with the rope coiled around him. Anything below his armpits would be fine to cover. He’d probably need to pee beforehand too. Then came the other equipment. Ernie cringed slightly at the thought of carrying more tools on his belt. The pistol and tomahawk were already weighty enough. Luckily there were some pistol shoulder holsters in the armoury box. His Makarov and two of his magazines would rest on either side of his torso. The currently sheathed tomahawk would stay on the right side of his belt, newly accompanied by the pepper spray and baton on the other side. The knife, though made redundant by the axe, went into his backpack. Just in case. Maybe Zoe would want to dual wield some knives out there? Hopefully it wouldn’t just be a useless weight on his back. Lunch had been consumed. His backpack was packed. He was dressed in his combat outfit. He had all the equipment he could feasibly bring along. Ernie was as prepared as he could possibly be. There was nothing he could do now but wait. [hider=Ernie’s Backpack] Pack of playing cards First aid kit Energy bars Barley sugar candies Collapsible water bottle, half filled Six magazines of ammunition for Makarov PM USARILN-distributed combat knife and sheath Bolt of wishalloy Case for earphones Whistle Grappling hook Two climbing slings Assorted belays and carabiners. Two ascenders.[/hider]