[center][h1]Oliver Black[/h1][/center]

Was chopping something, what looked to be butter as he pointed his free hand at Ban, "Hell yea, get that bad boy out bossman, think we got some pork in there. I know there is dough around here somewhere that I made, should be risen by now, but..." He turned to put the little chopped pieces of butter into a bowl, and then he went looking for cheese. "Cheese sticks, wings, spinach dip, and maybe western egg rolls. Something to tide us over until that pork is done. Cause that sounds good... but my lord... this European stuff is fresh." he said, taking a corner of some cheese he found and eating it. He took whatever he could find in the kitchen and started his apps for the day. He knew the others would be hungry, but he knew that the big ones would need to eat. And when I say eat, I mean eat. 

He heard the more prominent woman and looked at Tylar, chuckling a bit, "Just give it time, and the pork won't be raw, like five minutes tops."

"And Howard, I know what that song means." he said as he looked up at the man smiling, "Doesn't mean it can't be a damn good song." 

But eventually, the massive amounts of carbs and drinking foods would be ready, wings with a jack daniels bbq glaze, fried cheese wedges, spinach dip, chips, and these little tex mex egg rolls. All served with sour cream, ranch, and bbq sauce. 
For him, his choice of drink that night was Budweiser, a good American lager.

[hr]

When the call to action was given, he was up, another can of red in his hands as he headed towards where he needed to suit up. He looked down at himself and shrugged, thankful that he had socks with his flip flops, but the rest he looked like your average middle-aged dad. He opened up a small locker. Within, he had a spare jacket, which fit snuggly over his smiley face. Next, he did away with the sweats, leaving them on the boxes side hanging out as he struggled to get his pants to leg on while he tried getting a pair of boots on. Once he looked more like a soldier, he started to put his suit on. First, the inner layer of armor and cloth, the original Ratnik armor, and bits of the actual exoskeleton helped him move and carry more, but also had his shock pads for high drops. 

With that on, he stretched them a bit, almost jumping as the shocks moved him up and down a few times, and then he pulled the power pack over his shoulder, plugging in the pack to its little slot, letting it still keep power from the wall, so it didn't use anything else up. He stood and started to put the outer plating on the structure around his legs. Putting in two other power packs in, and then the extra paneling further on the outside for the ERA style materials on his outermost layer. 

Next, he started with his upper body, putting the older Ratnik armor on, then the modified exterior exosuit skeleton, then the remainder of his plates on. He shifted around for a moment, raddling and jingling like a Christmas tree before all the plates slowly formed into place. 

"If this is a helo jump, you know which way I'm going, put some extra gear in my pod, more ammo for our heavier stuff or some manpad." he leaned into the box, lifting it as he shifted through it, pulling out three backpack looking things, strapping one to both arms on the front, and one just behind his head. 

Now, his helmet came last; he removed it from the stand and placed it over his head. He then placed a second almost cover for it over the helmet and shifted his head a bit as he pulled it down with a chain or two, letting it latch onto his armor. The older visor was thankfully updated with a few things, like a battery life indicator and pretty much a dashboard indicator for anything else that might go wrong, from structural failure to needing oil. More mechanical than anything, something breaks, light shows up. 

He shook back and forth once again, letting the parts of him fall into place once again, jumping a few times before unhooking himself from the wall. "The M2 or the minigun... why not both," he said, thinking of the GAU-19 that lurked around somewhere; he lifted it and its battery before heading over towards his backpack, putting the battery inside, and then putting a slot in for the belts to go. He locked it to the side of the box before he would go for his other weapons, pulling out two law rockets and putting them to the side of the box. Then he would continue with his rifle, grenades, and extra ammunition. As well as food and medical supplies, he put several trauma kits in there and a mass cas pack. Then his shield and rifle on his chest mounts, as well as a few paint canisters and a mirror for doing stuff on the flight.

He lifted his box and closed it, letting it seal shut before he placed it down, turned around, put a fourth pack onto it. He took the last ran can and put it on a strap on his chest, which a grenade should go to. "Kay, I'm set up for a jump. Does anyone know where the spare manpads are? I'll put that and a bigger gun in my pod with spare supplies? Not going undersupplied again, and before you ask, I am jumping old fashioned style, with a chute and my braces, I had them made for a reason." 

When he did find him, his arms were covered with crates, and in his left arm, a 20mm rifle, his right arm had two stingers in their cases. The crates were primarily ammunition and missiles. But some also had food, another small box of medical supplies, a spare crate of armor plates, and a spare shield. He looked like a mother carrying half of the house on vacation, waddling aboard the ship likely before the others as well wanting to get everything set up in his pods before he finally could jump again. And have an excuse to jump properly. When he heard the giant woman singing, he smiled a bit. He did have his earphones still in and his phone ready to start the music back up. He was just debating what to play, maybe a soundtrack to those old doom games, oh, or some old music from when he was just a youngin that his dad listened to.