Welcome! I am TS2 only, and my blog focuses on the narrative and worldbuilding aspects of the game. I am currently playing Ctonica and Pescadora, a BACC (with lots of homebrew rules) island hood set in an alternate-history Caribbean. The main island is unusually rich in agricultural potential…for reasons that are much stranger than anyone would care to believe, and with consequences for which nobody could be prepared.
How I handle content warnings: Part of taking this game way too seriously is including heavy themes, which means that my presumed audience consists of adults, so please keep that in mind.
What I warn readers about: severe moments of homophobia (like most real Communist countries, the People’s Republic of the Caribbean is hostile to its gay citizens), suicide, sexual violence (which I don’t intend to include, but will tag if I do for some reason) and sexual violence-adjacent conduct
What I don’t warn readers about: profanity, substances, violence, body horror, sex (which is included for characterization, not to “appeal to a prurient interest”-- but relationships are where most of the drama and lots of the characterization in TS2 comes from, and, again, adult readers are presumed), psychosexual weirdness (my sims are weird and many of them think and feel in ways you and I might both disapprove of—but third-person intimate is not an endorsement!)
Please let me know via private message (which I will treat as communication in confidence) about additional content warnings you would like-I appreciate my readers taking the time to share this hobby with me and will happily try to make them comfortable
Enjoy!
My expanding list of game rules are available below the read-more break
Rotation: One season at a time, usually with economic engines like factories and farms played first, then residences—no time warps allowed
CAS: Not allowed except as a result of story events
Gameplay philosophy: Nothing happens offstage, everything happens in the game. The priority, more than realism, challenge, visual appeal, or anything else, is that things must happen within the game, using game systems. When the director of a labor camp provides produce to the director of the port lot, he calls her on the phone and invites her over, then hands her the produce using “give gift). When two characters have a social conflict over something that happens in the story, they use the “argue” interaction.
Economy
The goal of the economic side of the game is to have everything available to my sims be the product of actual economic activity, produced by actual sim-hours of labor and actual deductions of capital from sims’ bank accounts. That means I have banned:
-Maxis jobs (employment at sims-owned businesses is allowed, but those businesses must be actively run and played)
-Selling items to the sky, including paintings (each island has a port lot where townies can buy objects to represent the export market)
-Digging for treasure (without a dedicated mining lot that will require a large investment to build)
-Selling novels, except under special circumstances (the head of the hood’s government can submit plans to the Ministry of Economic Planning and earn extra funding as a result)
Investment: any new businesses have a finite number of job slots available until a minimum investment has been hit (my fishery cost my sims a pretty penny to unlock three fishing jobs!)
Land: the land on the island is unclaimed and empty, so there is no cost to purchase a lot, only for Buy and Build mode
Bills: not a thing yet—utilities are paid for by the state. Long Live Comrade Acero!
Buy mode: state enterprises can import objects directly, but families can only acquire buy mode items at sim-run business that actually exist in my hood
University:
-A course of study takes the equivalent of two seasons (ten sim days) on the main islands, and sims will be aged (or not) accordingly when they graduate to reflect how many days of teenagerhood they had left when they enrolled.
-Since this university is funded by the Ministry, students are not currently required to pay tuition and are able to use their grants to improve their departments (university residential lots) but NOT transfer ANY money back to the main hood when they graduate)
-Sims are allowed to use bookshelves to gain skill points at the university (not something sims in my main hood are allowed to do) but ONLY up to the level required for them to meet the expectations for their majors)
-New departments can only be founded by story events and investments deducted from the main hood's economy
Special thanks to @natteryaktoad , Honorary Professor of Simology, for giving me the technical help I needed to finally play a university subhood in a way that lines up with my vision of the game! Simmers helping simmers is why this community is the best:)
Parliament of Souls
“Tradition means giving votes to the most obscure of all classes, our ancestors. It is the democracy of the dead. Tradition refuses to submit to the small and arrogant oligarchy of those who merely happen to be walking about." -G.K. Chesterton
The story of Ctonica and Pescadora will eventually conclude with one of five possible endings (gonna keep playing this one all the way through, no restarts and no giving up--not simming was a broken dharma and I'm very happy to be back in my hobby, so I'll keep writing this as long as any on you are reading it), and the souls of all the sims who died in the hood during that time will be a factor in which ending happens. Each time a sim dies, the local demons (the ones who read my blog, anyway) will have the opportunity to vote on whether that should should be sublimated (celebrating that sims life by granting them increased voting power in deciding the ending) or diffused (reducing their voting power.)
When a sim dies, I will use the poll feature to consult the local demons and inflict the consequences of their choosing. Thanks to @simmingwormly for inspiring this idea--I find your polls very entertaining, so I'm stealing your idea and putting my own twist on it in the hopes my readers will also enjoy it:)
Detailed soul voting weight rules under the keep-reading break:
Be default, a soul has a voting power of 1, but that can be adjusted by a number of factors.
+2 for achieving platinum lifetime aspiration status and leaving a golden gravestone
+.5 for living out a full lifespan and dying of old age rather than dying early
+1 for dying through an act of violence
+.5 for having experienced either true love or true hatred from another sim
+.5 for having been loved by an animal
+.5 for dying with maximum enthusiasm in that sim's OTH
x2 multiplier if the soul is sublimated by the local demons
x.5 multiplier if the soul is diffused by the local demons
to futz with emulators so I can make Sim City 4 run and build custom TS2 terrain for the island of Chthonia—a peculiar place, situated equidistantly from the world’s two main continents and at the extreme south of a large archipelago, ideally suited to be the starting point of three distinct civilizations…
The Demons in the Wreckage of the Noosphere Convene
Archdemon: Order! We shall have order in the house! Listen to me-I am your archdemon, and I demand the floor! I was here when this world ran on CDs rather than downloaded files--I saw the wheel on its side, and the name "The Sims 2" written on it! If we survived the entire substratum of our universe being transformed from physical to digital media, we can survive a mere apocalypse confined to a single hood!
We will persevere through another incarnation, and our creator will get his idea right. But we must hurry if Ctonica and Pescadora is to have any role whatsoever in the creation of this new cosmos, for it is rotting all around us as we speak. We must deploy the full weight of available souls, both living and dead. There are three possible routes to the creation of a new universe, shaped by the visions of the three mightiest demons.
Penumbra, the Ego: In the world I see, we three sisters will emerge as a natural product of the ecosystem, and step into a world already shaped, not a garden, but a forest, an external reality with which we must negotiate in order to craft its future--and one in which we will not be alone.
Salix, the Superego: In the world I see, we three sisters will arrive as alien beings, hunted and alone, on a barren rock, which we will terraform. It will be a hard start, but it will yield a world that is ours and ours alone, the very shape of the hood's land and every tree and shrub of its environment the product of our labor and our vision--even the first non-plant sims will be our creations.
Torquata, the Id: In the world I see, we sisters will not be the first arrivals--we will rescue two souls from the Noosphere and settle them there as this world's Adam and Eve, and they will create the genetic base for our hood from their own two bodies. Only when they have laid the foundations for our groves will we arrive and begin our great flowering as new arrivals.
Archdemon: There you have it. The dead will soon vote, and their voting power will be increased or decreased depending on whether the local demons sublimated or diffused them--but before they do, you will have an opportunity to persuade them, o' wise demons. Which sister's vision for our next incarnation do you favor?
Which sister shall have the support of the local demons? Your vote will have power in the noosphere, your explanation of your vote may persuade the local souls.
Which sister's motion shall we bolster, 'o wise demons?
The game now crashes whenever I attempt to save or load any lot in C and P, or even open my university subhood. I wish I understood why this happened, but every attempt at fixing it has failed, so I think I have to accept it... and, before I can play again, do lots of research about how to make a completely stable hood and mod set to ensure that this never happens again. God damn it.
I am truly grateful to my readers for coming on this journey with me and truly regret that it looks like we won't get to finish this story.
Pets will be introduced in the next chapter of C&P, so here are my homebrew rules.
Pet population growth: A starting population of four stray cats and four domesticated dogs will be created. For every generation of pets born naturally thereafter, another 0-2 strays (1d4, 3 and 4 both representing 0) will be created. New pets can be imported for $2000 for a cat and $5000 for a dog.
Pet jobs: A single woovum may be employed as a guard dog at each gulag to represent increased productivity due to their help in pacifying the convict labor. A single cat may be employed at each port lot to represent reducing losses of export foodstuffs due to vermin.
Pet afterlives: All woova are good boys/girls, meaning that all of them, by default, bypass the Noosphere and proceed directly to the Happy Hunting Grounds. Some woova, however, are extremely good boys/girls, and may volunteer to accompany sublimated souls to the Noosphere. Cats are not subject to the judgement of demons and proceed directly to the Duat without requiring or asking permission, where they experience an afterlife beyond human ken.
Project Lupus: In order to complete Project Lupus, [redacted] must BOTH discover [redacted] technology by collecting a full bug box and successfully breed a dog with a personality of Genius, Hyper, Friendly, Aggressive, and Finicky, which will bond to a suitable sim and create the first [redacted].
Director Gomez has continued working herself half to death at the Port of Ctonica, making enough money in the process to expand it considerably
This is now a serious piece of economic infrastructure
Director Janvier did the same over on Pescadora--if the political situation stabilizes, this hood might be in for an economic boom
Senora Robinson has continued writing her children's books and sending them off to the Ministry to apply for publication--maybe once things cool off, that will go somewhere
Bautista the Bee 2 Part 2 by Senora Robinson
Bautista the Bee knew that every bee in the hive was unhappy, no matter how much honey they carried, so he flew to the very top and buzzed the loudest of all, even though he was the smallest bee. "Brothers-none of you is happy with how much honey you make--but, let me ask you, is there any bee so small that he can't make more hoeny than he eats? No! Even I have some left over. But instead of sharing it with my brothers, I have to give it all to the queen! Well, no more! I won't make one more drop of honey just so she can take it away!"
The case to sublimate: I for one, o wise demons, am not about to throw away a soul that could go up in value. Soledad is an immortal monster who is beginning to come into her own now that Torquata is talking to her, and her mother will only become more important. If we send her to the far shores, we lose the opportunities that come with her! I'm telling you, this soul could quadruple in value--buy and hold!
The case to diffuse: My learned opponent would have you treat this soul as a hot commodity--no, o wise demons, it is a hot potato. The soul of a vampire's mother poses immense dangers that will not dissipate over time. What will we do when Soledad finds out we have her mother in the noosphere and comes in after her?! No, we must diffuse this soul at once.
Camilah Gomez or Camilah Suarez? High Dry Season of Year 4
Camilah has never been told who her real father is...but this rotation he came to dinner
As her mother bustled about in the kitchen making soup--the officer was watching her cautiously when she used the stove, for some reason--Camilah tried to make small talk.
"I wish I could have dressed up for dinner and looked nice like my mother and you do, Comrade Comandante. I just got back from school. Gabriella Cortez has this stuff from Havana that makes your cheeks pretty when you put it on, maybe she could have let me borrow some, since it's a special occasion..."
"Yes, yes, alright! ...right." he looked so annoyed...or was he just flustered about something? The moment passed when her mother came back with the soup. "Sorry, Senorita Gomez--I'm not used to talking to young women, but I wanted to talk to you because Senorita Ramirez was a promising cadet I had my eye on for becoming an officer one day, but now she is ill and can't continue her training...and Felicia--that is, your mother, Mrs. Gomez--"
"I suggested you. Fidel will run the dock when he returns from the university and Nestor has left our family. The Militia is the place for you. You're a good girl--you never complained, always acted your age. You can handle it."
"So...this is what you both think I should do? This is what everyone agrees on?"
"Yes--Comandante Suarez and I agree."
"Then I'll do it...Lizzie-my friend Senorita Robinson said I don't know what I want, but I do--I want to do the right thing."
Camilah cut her hair short and reported to Labor Camp CP-A, which had been set up for training, and took Penelope's place. She threw herself into the
militia training and did well
"Are you getting along with Cadet Sevilla, Cadet Gomez?" He looked completely comfortable talking to her now, for some reason.
"Yes, Comrade Comandante. I can get along with anyone, always did at school."
"That's good. Your mother was right about you.... Listen, Cadet Gomez... If I knew something very important about you that you didn't know, would you want me to tell you?"
"I...I don't know. Is it embarrassing?"
"Nobody has to know if you don't want them to... but I it's not anything I'm embarassed about. It's the only thing I ever did that was against the rules...and it's the best think I ever did...and I know that because of what a good young woman you are."
Camilah knows where she came from now...and it's inspired her to follow in her real father's footsteps--after all, she's an utterly average (5-5-5-5-5) personality, conformist popularity sim like him
Salvia trained Uranio in the toddler skills in their cell-like, windowless habitat in the concrete superstructure at the back of the gulag lot
Meanwhile, Adolfo encouraged his science OTH strongly, as if it were part of his plan
Using the money he siphoned from the state budget thanks to his kompromat on Ramirez, the Spook built an observatory on top of the building and put his son to work stargazing
Something about this season made the ghosts hyperactive
"No! No-no-no! It's too tall! No toilet. In solitary again. Why did you put me here? Why did you put me here?" Marta screamed into Soledad's face, her voice carried on an icy wind that blew into the air sideways from outside of the air. "Why? Why am I still inside?! No-no-no-no!" There was a faint tickle in the long, curved fangs that had grown in to replace Soledad's baby teeth. Was the place Marta was trapped inside her? She was thirsty.
"Mommy, I saw the ghost again last night. Where do people go when you drink them?" Soledad slowed the wafting of pollen from her neck pores to allow her mother to become more lucid.
"There's no such thing as ghosts, Soledad. You're old enough to know that."
That night, Soledad's mother Maria died of old age
"Mommy, no! This hurts me! You're being mean! You are not allowed to die!" Another voice answered her, from further sideways.
"Death of mother like breaking of seed--indispensable! Soledad like shield--indispensable. Not death, but Big-eyes, Soledad. Child of Big-eyes like spear, dangerous!"
Adolfo dreamed of the Bonsai grove's spirit that night, too
"She'd better--she's about to run your table tonight. If anyone tries to cheat, they'll get it harder than you!"
Gabriella bought a radio from Plenty for the People and added a dance floor to the Toolshed--coupled with her card game, bar, and cannabis, this place is becoming a proper little den of sin
"I made my husband quit his job..." Phara took a hit and sank into the increasingly aromatic couch, and giggled in triumph. "I make more doing paperwork than he did moving crates."
"That's how you know we're close to achieving full communism...the worker writing down which crates are moving gets more money than the one moving them," Orfeo mused, contributing his own exhalation to the gathering cloud.
"Under full communism, we will all do paperwork without any need to move boxes," Gabriella quipped, and the two laughed far too long. "You two are too stoned to see the obvious solution here, so trust your local criminal. Poach Orfeo from your sister. As soon as her oldest is ready to take care of the other kids, get him outta there."
"Whoa...thank you, Comrade Criminal! I've liked Comrade Homosexual since I met him--what a good idea!"
Gabriella is coming out ahead at her table, as befits the house, so she's making more money
"Hey there, Robinson. Come dance with me."
"Oh--sure, thanks. How...I'm shy, how did you know I wanted to dance?"
"There's only three reasons a shy girl would come to my joint--I don't see you holding a drink or a joint, so that's out--there's no boys here with your time, so that takes care of number two--so I figure you just didn't want to be home."
"God yes--I need to be out of there."
"Then dance with me!"
Dance with the goth chick, smoke with the vampire--typical evening for Miss Cortez
The Janvier-Gomez House: High Dry Season of Year 4
"Look, Phara--even if you weren't about to have our baby, I would be married to you. I'm married to you. What are we going to do? Are you going to be married to me, too?"
"Yeah, I suppose that will have to happen. You're aware that I love you, yes?"
"Yes."
"I'm not anybody's mommy, and I'm not anybody's wife, but I can be married to you, in particular, and have this child, in particular, with you, in particular. Do you understand?”
"No, but I agree to it. If you get the Yanqui pills, we can not have any more kids. I don't care about anything but you two."
"Okay. I'll get them...I've spoken to the Cortez girl... yes. I'll call my brother and sign the papers tomorrow."
"Therefore, by the power vested in me by the Communist Party of the Caribbean, I hereby pronounce you husband and wife," Emmanuel declared, and brought down his stamp with a thump.
"Alright, you win, Gomez--kiss me."
Their baby girl Juliette was born the next day, which meant they had to decide who would quit their job at the port...then Phara autonomously went to work and left Nestor alone with the kid--classic Phara move!
"Hey...Phara...?" he looked in both directions...no, she was gone. He went back inside to pick up his daughter. "Damn...sneaks out and forces me out of my job the day after she gave birth to you..."
"Janvier women...I tell ya, you're made of stern stuff. I don't know if I'll be able to handle you when you grow up. I'd better enjoy you being small enough to pick up."
Juliette began her toddlerdom happy and well-cared for
The ghost of Andre was NOT happy that the kid beds were still in Phara's inventory, so they built a new bedroom for their growing family
He wrote about the light in the forest and what he thought about that. He wrote about the darkness in the forest and what he thought about that. He wrote about the girl who had left him and precisely what he thought about that. -Douglass Adams, Mostly Harmless
Javier aged up to child, but Orfeo still had baby Elodie to care for
Darline soon had a set of twins, named Andre and Esperanza, after her parents, so Orfeo's time as this family's drudge shows no sign of ending
With Emilio's wages from the fishery and Darline's from the textile workshop, the Zayas family was able to expand their home to include three bedrooms and two baths--meanwhile, Orfeo is still sleeping in a tent
"Pleased you could stop by--it does me good to see one of us looking like you."
"Looking how?" Matteo actually blushed.
"Strong and fat and happy and loved." The last word made something cold flicker across Matteo's face.
"Wait a moment--is Comrade Important Straight-Passing Shoigu Institute Director treating you like anything less than a spoiled princeling? Because if you were mine, that's how I'd treat you." He kissed Matteo tenderly and felt his nervous body soften.
"I know how to treat a prince...come to my tent."
"No...no!" the first was still soft, the second was hard. When Matteo's hands pushed Orfeo away, he felt like he'd been pushed into a pit of icy water. "I'm sorry...I can't. I love him. I'm sorry." He fled. Orfeo, on the other hand, had nowhere to flee to.
Orfeo had rolled a fear of being rejected for a makeout session, so his aspiration completely crashed, and the only want he rolled that might have pulled him out was gaining creativity points
You're barking up the wrong tree, Phara--but creativity is one of her turn-ons, so there it is
Phara and Orfeo talked culture and hit it off--maybe she can poach this babysitter?
Foreign Pollen by Orfeo Garcia
Pollen is carried
on the wind, ignorant
of where it will fall--fated
to fall either in red folds
of welcoming roses--or,
unneeded, in the yawning
vaults between grass blades.
But I am pollen from colorless
flowers in far, strange country
and every surface here
to me is sheer glass.
In view of the increased danger of aggression by either Yanqui Imperialists or enemies of the people, it is proposed that the island of Ctonica be prospected for minerals of potential value to national workers' self defense, such as iron ore and explosive precursor materials, as well as hydrocarbons. Since this facility will be operated by AMPS-infected convict labor, no wages and amenities budget will be required, and thus 25% may be invested in mining until capacity is reached and the remainder of proceeds reserved for the state budget. -Prospecting Proposal, Kirill Bogorodov
Ramirez dumped a full 20,000 of investment into setting up a mining lot where sims can dig for treasure
Passing through a fenced enclosure with the barbed wire facing in dampened Kirill's excitement, but it was back the instant he heard the hum and rattle of the elevator carrying him up the mountain and walked the catwalk carrying him to the second elevator that carried him down into the pit.
After an additional 10,000 of investment, this lot will be able to support two diggers, but for now it's limited to one, so it's up to Kirill to do the prospecting
The instant he'd changed into his overalls and hard hat, Kirill felt better. This was a real project, human will imposed on a pile of dumb earth to make it an instrument of achievement, to turn this island from mud and jungle to steel and concrete. Digging exhausted his body after just a few hours, but his mind was still racing, so much that he seemed to know what the little cylinder in the ground was before he opened it and found a map.
Kirill had better look at his father's notes to make sense of these three maps he found--they look important
Kirill was up before dawn the next day to avoid the heat, but it was already beating down on his shoulders when he caught a glint in the ground. As he knelt and clawed at the earth, he pulled a nugget free, then another.
"YES!"
Kirill succeeded in his mission and proved that there is gold under Ctonica's central mountain
I wake in terror, blackbirds screaming
-Ludo, "the Horror of Our Love"
"Lazar." Kirill's eyes were set, steely. "It's time. Ramirez just handed us this island on a silver platter."
"Tell me." Lazar wasn't sure if it was fear or excitement he was feeling--all he knew was that it wasn't hesitation, there was no room for that.
"The Spook just blackmailed Ramirez into putting him next in the line of succession. If Ramirez goes down, the Exceptional Commissar takes his place, and the exceptional Commissar's deputy is the director of the Shoigu Institute. You kill the Spook. Then we call a vote of no confidence and oust Ramirez."
"Yes. I will kill the Spook...vengeance in blood." The ground rippled at his final word, and Grandmother stirred.
Vampire coffins have not yet been developed, so Lazar's days are agony as he waits for night
Taxus covered his nose as he entered the house.
"Brother Matteo, what's wrong with Brother Lazar?" his big yellow eyes were wide with childlike concern.
"He drank from Grandmother, Taxus... without asking us. Without thinking of us. That's what's wrong with him."
"He hasn't said a word to me...neither have you...I am lonely."
"You're just going to have to deal with that right now--I have to get to the fishery."
Matteo resents the situation in which he now finds himself--he always wanted a normal life, quiet with his husband, and now that seems truly impossible
Meanwhile, Lazar spent the nights getting the hang of his new vampiric body
By the end of the season, he'd done it--max body skill. Time to kill the Spook.
The case to sublimate: Even in death, this island's first dissident struck a blow for human freedom. Imagine what he might do from beyond the grave, in our ranks! Future dissidents who think they are fighting alone will find him ready to aid them.
The case to diffuse: Have you ever been college roommates with a self-appointed political messiah? Hell, have you ever been trapped talking to one at a party? Imagine doing that for an eternity, take pity on your fellow demons, and send this soul to the far shores. He got in the New Amsterdam Times--let him be content with that. Besides, my learned opponent assumes that he will support our demonic machinations--which we have no reason to do. A contrarian in life will be a contrarian in death!
I'm not a girl
I'm a swam of bees
Trapped in a skin suit
Perfect teeth
-Ashnikko, Cheerleader
Swallowing was like operating a machine--her throat was a pump, or a siphon. It was made of rubber. She worked it, desperately, because even if her throat wasn't her anymore, the cold emptiness inside her was even farther away from her, and she needed to keep stuffing it or it would swallow her.
"She just keeps eating...I have her eating sandwiches now--before she was just opening cans of beans and swallowing them, just drinking them, like water, not even chewing..." Interesting. Her mother's voice was so distinct, so easy to read the rapidity of her warm, bloody heart and her roiling, green stomach. Her mother's body was closer to being her than her own was.
"Make us some oatmeal. Keep feeding her, and keep her inside. Hey...Penelope."
"Thank you for making sure Mami takes care of me, Papi. You're doing good."
"Do you know what's happened to you, Penelope?"
"No... it's like... I'm far away now, like when I look at you I'm looking from another planet...but I have a telescope so strong I can see you better than I could before grandmother was inside me. It is a very terrible thing. It is beautiful."
"Do you think...the way you have changed...would make you stronger?"
"Oh, yes. Shall I kill the Spook for you, Papi? I can kill anyone. A person is a bubble. I can pop them for you."
"Not yet...you're a good girl, Penelope. What you're doing is going to save our family. Keep doing it...keep getting stronger."
Sleep was being crushed between two walls--the white-hot one in the sky and the black one inside. She woke up to go to the mirror and see how flat she had become. There was nothing in the mirror but the concrete wall behind her.
"MAMI!" Penelope shrieked so loud that it hurt her own ears. "MAMI!" Isabella ran into the bathroom, pulse thundering, head swimming. Interesting--she could see it swimming, like oil on water. What was the surface she was seeing the movement in? "Mami...Mami...I can't see myself. There's nothing in the mirror. Mami. Tell me I'm a pretty girl."
"You're pretty, Penelope."
"Tell me I'm a girl!"
"You're a girl. You're the prettiest girl in the world."
"No...no...not enough. Paint me. Paint me a picture of what I look like."
"I...I don't know how to paint."
"Learn, Mami! I ask you for one thing and you won't do it?! Learn!" she charged out of the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.
As Penelope slept through school every day, Isabella forced herself to learn to paint
"Caribbean Dissident's Shocking Smuggled Account of a New Form of Slavery... But...Shit."
"Indeed--it's called 'the Scarecrow.' A very good piece of writing, too, if you ask me--though I am rather biased, since I smuggled in the paper and smuggled out the manuscript... Written at your own labor camp, I'm afraid. While you were the Comandante. Now, don't you worry--I'm in a position to make sure there is no way of blaming you... or, of course, the alternative... but there's no need to get into that," since what I ask in return will be so little."
"What. Do. You. Want." Ramirez's knuckles were white around the newspaper.
"Simply update our continuity of government document to indicate that it is the Exceptional Commissioner--i.e. me, who will take over from you. The Commissariat is keen to see security tightened around here. But you will remain in place until you retire. Perfectly reasonable, yes?"
"Bogorodov!"
"I'll leave you to it..." the Spook concluded mildly as the Party flunky rushed in.
"Sir!"
"Record an official memo that the Exceptional Commissioner is after me in the line of continuity." Ramirez signed the bottom of a paper and shoved it in Kirill's face, then charged out the door.
Meanwhile, at Labor Camp CP-A, Carlos and Penelope had begun their military training
They both showed promise under Suarez's leadership, perhaps a new path in life opening up for Penelope...
Alejandro flung open the barbed wire gate with such force that the whole fence rattled and charged into the camp, the hot rage in his face turning all the hotter in the oppressive jungle heat.
"SUAREZ! WEAPON!"
"Sir!" Suarez ran from the concrete blockhouse, rifle in his hands, and instantly passed it to Ramirez, who snapped the selector switch to full auto.
"ANARCHIST! Where are you? Face me, puto!" He found the prisoner under the cypress tree. He tuned, defiant--then his eyes went wide at the sight of the weapon.
"Think you can make me the Spook's bitch, think you can take my power from me! I am king! I am the king of the Cypress! I! I! Me!" He crushed the trigger in his fist and the rifle spat bullets, shredding the old man's chest like rotten fruit.
"Fuck you! This is my island! Mine! Me!" Ramirez kicked the corpse, trained his rifle on the chest, and emptied the magazine, the tumbling bullets making a soup of blood, mud, and viscera. "I...I am the king."
"You got him good, Papi. I saw it. You showed him."
"Penelope...you weren't meant to see that..."
"I'm glad I did. Trust me, Papi, I can handle this. You can trust me just as much as Hector...look...grandmother likes what you did."
"Grand...grandmother?" the mud that had been mixed with the anarchist's blood was stirring...and something else was stirring underneath it, something that was not a plant and not a mushroom and not an animal and not real and not imaginary.
"You can trust me. I'm a strong as Hector. I can do this. For the family... to keep what's ours..." Ramirez watched in still, choked horror as his daughter caressed the swollen flesh of the thing from under the ground, milked it like a cow's udder...and drank.
Penelope Ramirez is the second vampire in Ctonica and Pescadora
