{"Art is always and everywhere the secret confession, and at the same time the immortal movement of its time" ~ Karl Marx... Well, well, well, well... Today I make my final ever post to the 
Brouzouf meme created by MediantSamuel
-Raging waves howled their fury against the granite of the lighthouse. Roiled by the gale force winds, the sea surged an endless barrage upon its foe. Beneath a canopy of leaded clouds, the frothy waters would accept nothing less than surrender.
The formidable tower, La Sentinelle, held firm to its duty. Dovetailed blocks flexed with the powerful onslaught to cleave the wall formed by the angry swells. Torrenting waters split, spraying up into the path of the shining lantern’s light.
Within the lighthouse, Hugo washed his dishes to the accompaniment of thunderous echoes. A seasoning of nine years had inured him to the turbulent storms off the coast of Hirveä. Most evenings the crashing waves were naught but background noise. Tonight though, he savored the violent melody of this final personal performance. Tomorrow the relief crew would arrive and he'd be bidding his post farewell.
Like the sea, time was always moving. Traditions of history slid away in the face of advancing technology. La Sentinelle's conversion to automation was cost effective and practical. No more need for a lighthouse keeper. Spreading the towel across the drying rack, Hugo clicked off the kitchen light. He chuffed to himself, wondering if he should get one of those cushy ‘tour-guide’ gigs up in Lutia.
Unperturbed by the waves that lashed the third floor window, he considered the packing he'd left to do. There wasn't much left. His plaid bedding and books could wait for the morning. Clothes wouldn't take long to throw into his worn duffle bag. The old radio would fit in there as well. It wasn't his but he figured that nobody was going to notice it missing. What did an empty lighthouse need for a radio anyway?
Hand trailing along the curved black iron of the railing, Hugo climbed the spiral stairs to the watch room. He crossed to the window, making a note to unpack his camera to take some pictures before he left. The low pressure front would have moved on by then and he could sell the daytime view to tourists.
Another monstrous wave broke against La Sentinelle's side. Subtle tremors shook the floor beneath Hugo’s feet as a wash of water blackened the window. He stepped back from the glass, feeling the tendrils of alarm creep along his spine. For an infinitesimal moment, everything went silent. Gone were the reverberating echos, the creaks from the wooden flooring, and the rush of his hastening breaths.
Sound returned with a vengeance. Sharp cracks and the shrieking shatters of exploding glass from below sent Hugo running to the stairs. The relentless sea had finally broken La Sentinelle’s defenses! Churning waters flooded in, rapidly surpassing the fourth floor. The lighthouse keeper watched the rising waters claim the fifth before turning to flee up the stairs to the lantern room.
Scrambling into the safety of highest room of the lighthouse, Hugo stopped cold. The beacon, that salvation for sailors, was no longer shining. Instead the room was awash with a haze of emerald light.
The water came crawling, washing waves taking tiny steps before beating the hatch-door entrance. The haze dying into a green-glow, Hugo's shoulders slumping onto the glass panes of the beacon room. Reaching in for the tired radio, only a dry feeling did his hands felt; ears being pressed upon the radio, not even static dare emit from the radio.
The green-glow flickering, the rusty radio plummeting, the flood water wailing and his scream silenced by underwater roaring. Then the water exploding like zits popping from pressure, spewing out more than packets of water. He saw cycles of rising and plunging figures clad in gold and dark metal, all the gold gleaming about in the land sieged by now darkening clouds. Pressing his face to the glass planes yielded a better sight, yet only a sharper blur that granted him faint signs of crosses, halos and glowing disks.
A circus of emotions from confusion consulting his memories if he had ever seen past figures of this apparel to the excitement exuded with each underwater roar rearing the flood to lower - despite the murkily gross green foaming about. Feet floored and his body bridle-carried, his mind melted away as he heard an explosive jump and saw the sky above those deathly dark clouds. Soon seemingly his mind brought back with hearing the ground exploding and his carrier croaking; dropped down to the floor, his head cocked up to see the same black-gold apparel yet a golden skull with a halo adorned on top.
His eyes staring straight into the battle, both caught a glimpse of the underwater beast emerging from the water while giving a death scream as it was submerging back to the depths. A fleeting sigh breezed along with the whistling winds, Hugo staring up at the unnamed saviour; ruffling in his pockets, the golden skull twisted downwards and shook disdained.
"Brouzouf not needed, not like we need the pity change; save it, thou need it to survive in such neon-esque times."
"Sir-"
"I am not a sir, I do not understand the infatuation to think or to proceed all mysterious people with a male pronoun. You are lucky we are not creatures from outer space or the federals, we cannot guarantee that they will be lax. Anyways, as you were going to say~"
"No nothing m-more of course, but what do you go by? The voice is too static-y and androgynous to tell."
"Well, if all the reassignment augments continue working, I can finally operate in peace as a woman; however I cannot rest my body and metamorphize due to all the federals buzzing boldly like flies. In fact, my radio's picking their signals up as we speak. Thus I proposition: join us fully or be our relay agent, or spy if you prefer, on the ground."
A clank of black metal and gold colliding, an arm reached out to Hugo. All that was needed was one choice and to seal the deal with his hand. One whisper in-betwixt them and a handshake back, Hugo marched back to the La Sentinelle as they disappeared under the shadow's cover. The federals will come, he'll answer cautiously like always, bribe with a few Brouzouf to some guards and yet now a spy to an organization he heard in rumors.
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