"Certainly I won't get cancer."

MICHAELStirling-Rose

The gentle breeze of the ocean would flood his nose with the sharp scent of salt water. His eyes opening to the sound of a gull screeching overhead. Michael would stand up his fingers curling around the rusty railing of the trawler, Dragging himself to standing. His eyes blinking a few times training to remove the cloudy grain of sleep from their lenses. He would listen the various sounds flooding into him at all once. The familiar clicking of the metal tags around his neck. The soft hum of the diesel engine puttering along, Pushing the hunk of rusted metal across the pristine mirror of the ocean. His eyes shifting around a bit coming to rest at the cabin of the ship. The crazed eyed man behind the wheel. CEO of a company of Two people. Trip was his name, A man with a thousand Ideas every present.

The newest of this dreams would be the hostile take over of a small island for "Training." And "Wildlife preservation." This small dot of land in the middle of the pacific ocean was used for testing of Nuclear weapons some time in the past. "I certainly won't get cancer right?" was the question of choice when presented with plan to land on this island. His boss had assured him most certainly that he would not so off they went. He close his eyes once more. He had been on this ship for a week at this point. A light sunburn coated his shoulders, His beard stained by the salt water. His hands would raise from the railing wiping off the rust flakes onto his Flecktarn shorts. His hand coming up to grasp any loose strands of hair placing them into a knot upon his crown. His eyes staring off into the horizon would catch sight of a shadow. Land Ho.

The chugging rust bucket would come to turn it's side to the beach front. The loud clacking and whining of old machinery coming from the ship as a Mechanical bridge emerged from it's storage hold. The bridge would connect the beach front and the ship. Michael Stirling-Rose would step down into the rusted hull of the ship. His eyes scanning over the various olive drab containers. Some old and wooden, some new and plastic. He would bring his hand to the dog tags around his neck. Drawing his own spiritual energy into them. This coaxing out the soul inside. The figure only seen to those with spiritual affinity would appear. 7 feet in height. Bright blue eyes, and golden blonde hair. Clad in a period style leather armor, With a fur cape resting around his neck. A viking in the modern era. His Fullbring: Scar Tissue.

Using Scar Tissue was a second nature to Michael Stirling-Rose. It wasn't something that required extra thought or processing. It simple was another part of his body. The movements in the Fullbring would be the same as making a fist. Simple muscle memory and training would make this the easiest of task. He would spend the next few hours working in silence with his Fullbring. Unloading the ship onto the beach head. They would set up the operating base on the Peale island part of Wake Island. Camo Netting, Tables, And a few tents would scatter the FOB. He would come to sit ontop of the last box unloaded, The Figure of his comrade bringing a hand to rest on his shoulder before fading off. The light ching of his dog tags reforming around his neck would bring a aire of peace to Michael. His eyes would close slightly before standing up and moving into his tent. He would stop his eyes diverting and staring off into the woods.

MICHAELStirling-Rose

Michael Stirling-Rose would have just finished placing a box upon the shore. His eyes shifting upwards hearing the crunching of feet against leaves. His hand moving to his chest slowly his fingers curling around the Dog Tags on his neck. His grip would lax seeing a female figure emerging from the tree line. He would remain cautious his eyes examining the staff in her grass. He would stand up walking over to the female staying outside of her range around 4 meters.

His hand would move to his backside, digging into his rear pocket removing a sheet of folded paper. Unfolding it to reveal a printed statement with a large seal of the Island of Wake on it. Unknown to him this was a forgery crafted by Trip.

"Yes, My name is Michael Stirling-Rose. I am a member of Yggdrasil Defense Services. I have been sent to this island to observe, document, and preserve the local wildlife and fauna."

His body would shift walking over to the female. extending his hand to offer the sheet of paper to her. While this was occuring Trip would board the ship. Waving his hand as the rusted trawler would depart leaving Michael for his month long mission.

Michael Stirling-Rose would have his back to the ocean. Standing in front of the female. His body still not fully in sync with the souls of the island. His feet slowly digging into the dirt in case she posed a threat. He was use to the battles with Demons in Wales. He had seen combat across this land world. He knew not to take anything at face value.