Being in your early twenties now, your parents have become very insistent on getting you out of the house and into the world. You're naturally a shut-in so finding a place that you'd be comfortable working wasn't easy. After multiple failed gigs, you were very frustrated. One day, while scanning classifieds, a listing caught your eye.

Wanted: Lighthouse Keeper Apprenticeship. No experience required.

Normally you wouldn't consider this for a second... But then you thought about it some more. Living away from it all out in a lighthouse, getting some real alone time. Surely it's not that intensive and you can do your own thing most days. You circle it, and the next day you're driving for over two hours to the coast to this lighthouse.

Pulling up, it sure was a lighthouse. Dull red and white bricks stack high into the sky til it reaches a huge glass dome at the top. With a suitcase full of your stuff you take a few deep breaths and walk up to the entrance. You hesitate for a moment in front of the door, then you knock. The old wood door is loud under your knuckles and you pull away, not wanting to break anything. For a few moments you hear nothing, so naturally you knock again. This time within a few seconds the old door swings open with a creak. You step back in surprise.

"Stop it with the knockin'." A gruff, deep voice booms in front of you.

In front of you is suddenly an absolute brick shithouse of a... Woman? She stands a good six inches above you, dressed in all dark green sailor attire, shoulders broad, face and hands obviously chiseled from years spent out here. She smells like booze and salt. She glares down at you, chewing a pipe.

"Whatcha want kid?" She growls.

You quickly explain that you're here for the internship.

This makes her throw her head back a little and let out a low bark of laughter and a plume of dark grey smoke from the corner of her mouth. "You? You're serious? Sea winds would blow you away, string bean."

Normally that'd be enough to make you run with your tail between your legs but... Something about the way she deeply intimidated you also steeled you somewhat. You reiterated and said you could handle it.

She snorts. "Fine, 'syour funeral. C'mon kid." She turns and her booming footsteps echo into the lighthouse. You hastily follow. She takes to you an oddly cozy floor not far from the door.

"This is home now. Get used to it." She rumbles out the order.

There's a couch, large leather arm chair, table, old tv, and a radio. Alongside a slim kitchen area.

The huge woman sits and sinks into the chair with a loud grunt. "Sit." She gestures to the couch with her pipe.