#Raul find new purpose and Lily to make up her mind or keep it

[dykedvonte]

Fallout New Crashes

[nukaberries]

Ahh im so happy to find a blog that writes new vegas! I got into it recently and its so fun! Sometimes i get tired of hearing the radio especially if im travelling way too much, so i just start singing any song that pops into my head or talk to the companions like they're real pfft

im also way too cheery for my own good lmao, game devs knew what they were doing when there was no push button for running, you know how many times i ran into mines and kept running 🧍🏽

I kinda wanna know how the companions would react to that? A Courier who practically bounces as they walk and if its not the radio or them talking to fill the silence, its them singing as they shoot radscorpions !! Couriers not half bad at singing either! They mostly sing quietly while walking the mojave for obvious reasons but on a night they feel especially safe, they'll be singing so well people will wonder why they're not making holotapes for mr new vegas to play (esp if they say the radio gets annoying at times)im sorry this is long im just excited to see a new vegas writer that hasnt left their blog 🤧

I'm SO late to this one, I'm so sorry! But I'm so glad you're enjoying New Vegas! It's tied with Red Dead Redemption 2 as one of my favourite video games! And I'm exactly the same when I play New Vegas, the radio's never off and I have no spatial awareness. I hope this was worth the wait!! (Sorry again lmao)

//

Companions React to a Loud/Chatty Courier (Includes: Arcade, Boone, Cass, Lily, Raul and Veronica)

Arcade Gannon Admittedly, he's a little intimidated at first. He agrees to go with the Courier since there's no point in him sticking around Freeside where he's not helping anyone. He just doesn't realise he's taken up with the most obnoxious person in the West. He's not annoyed by any means, in fact, the singing is actually quite a nice change from the radio. The constant talking is a little overwhelming for him at first though, as someone whose trying his best to keep his past with the Enclave a secret. He knows the Courier means no harm, and he feels a little guilty having to shut down their questions about him, knowing that they only mean well. They do bring out a different side to him he didn't know he had and he sometimes finds himself humming along to either the radio or Six's singing.

Craig Boone At first, he's annoyed by the Courier, but it's not like he has anything better to do. They're his best chance at wiping out the Legion, even if their incessant talking and singing is a little too much for him. He doesn't have a problem with them, but he prefers silence to having to begrudgingly answer someone who talks at a million miles per hour. The only time he'll really voice his complaints is when he actually needs them to be quiet, such as if they're trying to stealthily take out enemies, thankfully the Courier seems to know when to turn off their radio and stop singing. Eventually, the constant chatter and the singing - that he'll never admit is actually enough to rival the radio songs - become background noise he learns to appreciate. He'll never join in with the Courier's singing, but he tries his best to answer their questions and respond to their comments.

Rose of Sharon Cassidy Cass is another one who can't stand the Courier's chatter and singing at first, however, she's more than willing to voice this. A few times, she actually hid the Courier's Pip-Boy while they slept, unfortunately for Cass, they'd already memorised all the lyrics to Johnny Guitar and sung that on repeat for most of the day. It was starting to reach the point where Cass was certain they were doing it on purpose. The singing she hated, but the talking? She didn't mind the talking. In fact, Cass actually looked forward to the talking, she often struggled to make friends, considering her problems with whiskey, so it was nice to just make conversation sometimes. Sure, she'd still keep trying to put an end to the singing, no matter how good it was, but the talking Cass could live with.

Lily Bowen The first time Lily started travelling with the Courier, she was thrilled. Everyone in Jacobstown took life a little too seriously and being with the Courier was a refreshing change for her. Unlike most of the other companions, Lily actually loves the singing and the talking. She'll even suggest that the Courier tries their hand at singing on the Strip, the Tops and the Atomic Wrangler are always looking for new acts after all. Lily will even try and sing along with them, before realising her voice doesn't exactly compliment or rival the Courier's, but so long as they encourage to join in, she always will. The talking is just as lovely for her, it's nice to know that the Courier still cares about their grandma, even if they are growing up so fast.

Raul Tejada Never in all his years of being alive has he met someone like the Courier. It was one thing that they managed to deal with Tabitha, but the fact that they did it with Radio New Vegas playing on full blast from their Pip-Boy? Raul wasn't sure whether to be impressed or absolutely terrified. He leans more towards the latter once he starts travelling with them, struggling to keep up with the Courier constantly asking him questions about where he's from and what his life was like before the war and how he turned ghoul. Like Arcade, Raul finds it overwhelming and eventually asks politely if the Courier can calm down a little with all the questions, thankful when they actually oblige. He learns to love the Courier in spite of their loud habits, even being happy to fix their Pip-Boy when it stops letting them connect to the radio stations. It's against his better judgement, but they seem grateful for it.

Veronica Santangelo She immediately bonds with the Courier over their love for Radio New Vegas. Veronica wishes she had her own Pip-Boy so she could listen to the radio in her own free time, since lugging a radio around the Mojave Desert doesn't seem like the best idea. She absolutely loves the Courier's singing too, insisting that they don't forget her once they make it big in some bar in New Reno. She also tries her best to be the Courier's backup singer when wandering the wasteland, however, she accidentally stumbles up on a lot of her lyrics and trying to pronounce "Agua Fria" at the start of Big Iron quickly becomes the bane of her existence. Veronica also loves to gossip with the Courier, about her love life - and the Courier's if they're willing to disclose it - and all her least favourite things about her commanding officers in the Brotherhood. Whenever she travels with Six, Veronica manages to get a lot of off her chest

[nightingaelic]

could you do Fallout New Vegas companion’s reactions to a Courier Six who is also the Lone Wanderer telling their stories from their time in DC? (bonus points for Arcade’s reaction to them hating the enclave, and if that would make him decide to keep his past hidden even longer, or if he would still tell them?)

The logistics and implications of this make my head spin. This is also super long, honestly I should just quit writing reacts and start writing fics OH WAIT

Getting the courier talking was a tough thing to do, but on nights where the moon was full and the coyotes' howls were miles away or at least behind some stout walls, on nights where they were a few beers in and they hadn't seen another living soul in a few days, that Mojave Express deliverer started to reminisce. That wasn't really the surprising part, though. No, the surprising part was what they would remember, fondly or not-so-fondly: A world apart from the desert, a continent away on another coast, and stories of life in a vault, a missing father, pure water and a Brotherhood divided.

Arcade Gannon: Arcade didn't mind these moods, at least when they first cropped up. He nodded along as the courier talked about living in their father's shadow, about feeling cornered by their own family's legacy. He hung on their words about living in the cradle of America's history, about Project Purity, all of the gritty details of modifying a GECK to bring water to a devastated wasteland.

Eventually though, the courier's memories soured, with the arrival of Enclave remnants in their life. Arcade folded into himself with every harsh word, every jolt of plasma that had disrupted his friend's world relived in horrific detail. They gestured angrily as they described their newfound purpose, their battle for power with the fractured Brotherhood of Steel at their back, and their smug satisfaction at the moments they were able to crack open Raven Rock and the Enclave's mobile base crawler and lay waste to their tormentors.

It took a few rounds of these stories before the courier noticed he shrank and grew quiet whenever they neared the end of their story about breaking into another vault to find the GECK. They stopped abruptly one night. "What's up with you?"

"Um..." Arcade scratched the back of his neck and looked away. "Nothing. Nothing, I just... have some personal experience with the Enclave, myself."

The courier sighed. "Yeah, there's a few people walking around the West Coast that have similar stories to mine. Arroyo's full of them, for one. Is it something like that?"

Arcade took a deep breath. "I feel... well, it's a lot closer to home, for me. Close enough to raise questions, so I don't talk about it much."

"Close enough to..." The courier twisted their face up in confusion for a moment, before realization set in and their eyes grew large. "You were... your... oh."

"Mmm-hm."

"Well, fuck me." The courier smiled and popped a cap off of another beer. "I've been doing all the talking, haven't I? Let's hear your story about working with the guys in power armor who ruined my life, right after dad did."

Craig Boone: Whenever the courier started up like this, Boone couldn't help but notice a familiar twinge of regret and self-doubt in their voice. It shone through most clearly when they spoke about their time with the Brotherhood of Steel, the men and women they'd fought alongside and lost during their struggle against the remnants of the Enclave. It was there, too, in their story about returning to the vault they grew up in, setting the chaos that had arisen in their wake to rest, but not being able to go back to the way things were.

Boone didn't pry. He knew that feeling well. Instead, he cracked open bottles of beer, liquor, soda, whatever they had on hand during their nights in the desert, and just listened. He'd done the same for Carla, when they were younger and new to each other and he couldn't get enough of her voice and how it flowed endlessly, easily, the way his never could. He absorbed it all now as he did then: The joy, the pain, the loss, the fear, the triumphs and falls and abandoned dreams that filled the courier up and drove them to travel west, beyond anything they had ever known.

That last part stumped Boone a bit, though. "Why didn't you stay?" he finally asked one night.

They looked surprised. "Stay? Stay where? I didn't have a home anymore."

Boone shook his head. "With the Brotherhood. Or some other settlement."

"Like Megaton?" The courier sighed. "I thought about it. Close to the vault, friendly people, easy work... I guess I just didn't want to wind up... stuck."

They flushed red and looked away from him. Boone knew why they were embarrassed, but he also knew the truth in their words.

Sometimes the courier cried after they had finished, though they did their best to hide it. Boone pretended not to notice. He was pretty sure they knew he was pretending, but he was also pretty sure that pointing it out would be worse than just letting it be an open secret between them. The silence between them endured, but something grew inside it and flourished. Some kind of deeper understanding.

Lily Bowen: The more the courier spoke, the more Lily made connections in her muddled mind. Of course they knew the basic layout of most vaults, they had grown up in one. Of course they were extra-sensitive to the Mojave heat, they had come to the desert from the cooler of the two coasts. Of course they'd been extra-wary around the super mutants or nightkin of Jacobstown, they had only known angry super mutants looking to grow their own numbers through any means necessary.

Their shared experience of growing up inside a vault reminded Lily of happier days, and she often asked questions about Vault 101 during the courier's stories. "Were you sweet on anyone inside your old home?" she asked, with a big smile befitting a proud grandma.

The courier blushed. "That's not very polite, Lily."

"Oh, I'm sorry, dearie."

"No, no it's okay." The courier smiled. "There was a boy who picked on me a lot, but I never figured out whether he did it because he hated me or liked me. His name was Butch. And there was Amata, my childhood friend. She was the daughter of the Overseer."

"Daughter of the Overseer?" Lily grinned. "I'm sure she was a lovely young woman."

The courier looked a little misty. "Yeah. She was. Probably still is."

Lily pulled a handkerchief that used to be a small tablecloth from inside her overalls and handed it over. "Maybe we can go back there together, pumpkin," she offered. "I always wanted to travel to the capital. We can visit your friends, see the sights."

"Yeah, maybe someday." The courier accepted the gift and blew their nose. "I've got some things I need to finish up here before I even think about wandering back east, though."

"Then let's make a list and do our chores," Lily said happily. "Number one?"

"Ohhhh, man." The courier smiled up at her. "I wouldn't even know where to start."

Raul Alfonso Tejada: Raul got a faint smile on his face whenever the courier started up like this, as if their memories reminded him of another place he had come from, another time. While they couldn't have more different backgrounds, pasts- hell, he had several hundred years on the courier, even if they shared the same road today- there was something in the description of the other roads they had walked that made him feel warm on a cold night.

"What's on your mind?" The courier asked him one night, when Raul's smile grew larger than usual.

"Nada, boss," he reassured them. "You're just a good reminder that I can change my mind about the future anytime I'd like. Tell me the one about that radio DJ again."

"Again?" The courier rolled their eyes. "Why? I could tell you a million stories about Underworld and all the ghouls that lived there, but all you want to hear about is Three Dog. You'd probably have more in common with the Underworld folks, honestly."

Raul nodded noncommittally. "Sí, but my favorite stories are about people who had to rise above bad situations and become someone uncommon. Anyone who's able to do that is either fighting for something great or running from something terrible. Sometimes both."

The courier shot him a skeptical look. "Three Dog's holed up in his radio station 24/7, he's not running from anything or out fighting for anything. All that stuff about 'the good fight' is a load of bull."

"Now, now, Six," Raul chastised. "Just because he looks like your average pendejo doesn't mean he isn't doing his part. You even told me his radio show is inspirational for the Capital Wasteland folks."

The courier held their hands up in the air and bobbled them, as if balancing an invisible scale. "The duality of man. Being an average pendejo, or convincing everyone around you that you aren't actually an average pendejo and can pull off miracles."

Raul laughed. "And which one are you, boss?"

"Eh, I'm still figuring it out."

Rose of Sharon Cassidy: Cass was never one for fixating on her own past, but she couldn't help but sympathize with the courier whenever they deigned to add onto their unbelievable story. It was hard enough for her to navigate her own damn life: She couldn't imagine being called upon to steer an entire area's destiny.

After another night of recalling their life inside a vault with their dad, then their unexpected loss of him right after being reunited on the surface, the courier stopped suddenly. "I'm sorry," they said.

Cass paused her swig of precious whiskey. "What?"

"I keep going on and on about my dad, and here you are not knowing what happened to yours."

"Eh." Cass took her drink and waved her hand around until the burning swallow made its way down. "S'loads of people in the wasteland without a clue what happened to their pops. I'm not special. In fact, I'd say it probably hurts a bit more, what happened with yours."

"Well, all the same." The courier sank deeper into their seat and examined their own bottle of spirits. "I feel like an open book, tonight. Anything you want to know about where I came from that I haven't already spilled?"

Cass thought for a moment. "Tribals."

"What about them?"

"Does the East Coast have them? You're not the first traveler I've met from there, but none of you have so much as mentioned any tribals out east."

"Mmm." The courier looked thoughtful. "I guess we do have them, though maybe not in the traditional sense. There's a mess of them in Point Lookout for sure, and at least one tribal group in the Capital Wasteland outright, but beyond that things are more... loose. Fewer intact families, fewer intact homes."

"Huh." Cass took another drink. "Maybe that's where my dad went."

She let the courier stew in the awkward silence for a bit before she grinned and reached out to smack them. "Just kidding. Keep going. I want to hear about that giant robot again."

Veronica Santangelo: Veronica usually sat and listened, spellbound, picturing a chapter of her order that had realized the very thing she kept trying to tell the Elders and made the ultimate sacrifice to follow their hearts anyway.

Well, maybe Elder Owyn Lyons hadn't come to the same realization as her, but he had had a change of heart that split his company and cut them off from almost everyone they had ever known. It had been five years since the High Elders had instituted radio silence toward their East Coast chapter, and so far there had been no attempts to re-establish contact.

Veronica prodded the courier for any info she could get about the Capital Wasteland Brotherhood of Steel. The courier let slip pretty early in their friendship that Elder Owyn Lyons had passed away, which wasn't unexpected. The man was 76 years old, after all. She learned on one particularly emotional night that his daughter, Elder Sarah Lyons, was also dead, something she wasn't sure even the Western Elders were aware of. That memory was clearly painful for the courier though, so Veronica didn't press for details.

"And the Enclave?" the Scribe asked one night, arms wrapped around her knees. "Are they completely gone?"

The courier grew cold. "Yes. I made sure of it."

"Right." Veronica nodded. "So the Brotherhood took over the air force base they were at. It must have been chock-full of tech and resources, if it was the Enclave's last stand."

"It was." The courier sighed and shifted in their seat. "And it woke up some of our brothers and sisters to their original mission in the Capital Wasteland. I thought maybe that selfishness had died with Liberty Prime, but... well, I didn't like it, so I left."

"Mmm, yeah." Veronica nodded again, sympathetically this time. "I know how you feel. Felt."

"Feel," the courier agreed. "I just wish there was more I could've done. Maybe there wasn't anything else, short of seizing power."

"You'd definitely get pushback for that in the Brotherhood," Veronica agreed. "But you might get that chance out here in the broader Mojave."

ED-E: At first, ED-E enjoyed the stories, trumpeting and cooing various beeps at the appropriate moments for emphasis. The one time the courier began badmouthing the Enclave, however, the eyebot waited until they had finished before playing back the first tape that Dr. Whitley had recorded before its trip.

The courier listened to the scientist's words from years ago, deflating slightly as it played out. When the tape had finished, they stood up and checked the eyebot over. "He sent you toward Navarro, huh?"

ED-E beeped affirmation, and the courier sighed. "But Navarro was already gone. I'm sorry. I guess I'm... well, me and the Brotherhood of Steel back east are responsible for your previous master's decision to send you away. Might be responsible for more, too."

ED-E beeped sadly. The courier pressed their forehead against the eyebot's metal dome in apology.

Rex: Well, surprising for most. Rex was not most. As soon as the courier got really into their recollections, Rex usually yawned and went to sleep. He stirred when he felt their hand reach down to scratch the ruff of his neck, or pat the glass dome that held his brain.

"Good dog," the courier said, through the veil of sleep. "You remind me of another pup that used to follow me around."

[ricandhaiz]

Out of Time, Bonus Chapter

It had been ten months since that fateful night when Raul had sacrificed his life to save Lily’s. For weeks afterward, she was overcome with grief and sadness. That quickly changed, however, the moment she discovered that she was pregnant. This news gave her a renewed sense of purpose and drove her to find the will to go on.

In the months leading up to the baby’s birth, Lily became acquainted with the representative of Raul’s estate, a man named Diego Garcia. He had flown out from Spain to collect and transport Raul’s remains back to his homeland for burial after having been contacted by the local authorities, who had found his name and contact information in Raul’s wallet. The shocked look on Diego’s face at their initial meeting coupled with the news that Raul had left all his worldly possessions and substantial wealth to her left her feeling both perplexed and astonished at the same time. Nevertheless, knowing that neither she nor her baby would ever want for anything gave her some piece of mind as she contemplated the future without Raul.

Lily went into labor a week before Christmas. Both her parents were in the delivery room as she welcomed her son, Arturo Raulez, into the world. Tears of joy fell from her eyes as she cradled her nearly 8-pound baby boy in her arms. She kissed his forehead and marveled at the child that she and Raul had created together. He’s perfect, she thought with great pride. Just like his Papá.

Less than twenty-four hours later, Lily and Arturo were discharged from the hospital and went home with her parents. In the days leading up to Christmas, she received a call from Diego to inform her that his grandfather, Alfonso Garcia, was in the United States and that he was eager to pay her a visit. She readily agreed to the meeting and was told that the elder Mr. Garcia would likely arrive at her doorstep on Christmas Eve.

Alfonso arrived promptly at five o’clock in the afternoon on Christmas Eve. He was an elderly gentleman with snow white hair and kind eyes. She greeted him warmly and invited him and his daughter, Sofia, into the living room. After a few minutes of light banter and pleasantries, Lily’s mother came in and set a tray with coffee and Christmas-shaped cookies on the coffee table. Early on in their conversation, Alfonso asked if he could see Arturo. Lily nodded and went to the nursery to see if her son was awake. She quietly stepped into the room and then gently picked him up when she saw that he was.

Alfonso’s eyes lit up like a Christmas tree the moment his eyes fell upon Arturo. After sitting down next to him on the couch, Lily loosened the swaddling clothes around her son’s face and leaned forward in order to give the elderly gentleman a better look at her son. Alfonso’s smile broadened as he gazed at the infant in Lily’s arms. “There’s no mistaking this child’s parentage. He is a Banu Gomez through and through. That is plain to see.” He brushed the child’s cheek with the tip of his finger before continuing. “My family has had the honor of serving Don Raul and his family since the Spanish Reconquista. Although I grieve his passing, it is good to know that he is finally at peace after all that he has suffered.”

Why did he say that? What does he know? These were some of the many questions that were swirling through Lily’s mind as Alfonso spoke. Nevertheless, she chose to bide her time before peppering him questions and instead asked, “Will you be staying here long?”

Alfonso shook his head. “I’m afraid not. As you can see, I’m quite old and am not in the best of health. Truth be told, my doctors advised me not to come to the United States, but my curiosity about you and the child led me to reject their recommendation out of hand and make this trip to see you anyway.”

Intrigued, Lily decided that now was as good a time as any to delve into what Alfonso might know about Raul’s history. “Your grandson, Diego, told me that you were the one who could shed the most light about who Raul was and where he came from.” Alfonso nodded. Lily continued. “We didn’t know each other very long before he died and, to be honest, he only gave me the vaguest of pictures of his background and history. Even your grandson seemed reluctant to tell me what he knew.”

Alfonso sighed and glanced at his daughter, who gave him an encouraging smile. Just then, Lily’s mother came in and offered to take Arturo off her hands. Lily said yes and gently handed her son over to her mother while Alfonso took a sip of coffee and gathered his thoughts.

Once Lily’s mother had left the room, she asked, “I want to know everything.”

“Yes, yes,” Alfonso replied with a wistful look. “I will tell you what I know. But before I do that, you must promise me that you will keep an open mind. What I am about to tell you is a tale that has been passed down in my family for many generations. I was not fortunate enough to have met Don Raul myself, but my padre told me that he did meet him once before I was born.”

How was that possible? Lily thought as she squeezed her hands together until her knuckles turned white. She took a deep breath to calm her increasingly frayed nerves and to ease the tension in her body. Like he said, just keep an open mind and see what he has to say before you decide whether you’re going to believe him or not.

“Are you all right Lily? You look a little pale.”

“I’m fine, thank you,” she quickly replied. “Please go on.”

Although Alfonso did not look completely convinced by her assurances, he cleared his throat and said, “When I was a young man, my padre told me about a young Leonese noblemen who lived during the Reconquista. He was the son of a count from the House of Banu Gomez and married a beautiful Castilian noblewoman named Inés during the reign of King Alfonso V of Castile and Leon. They had only one child, Estela, who lived past infancy. I was told that both his daughter and wife met their end in Cuéllar after he had been sent there by the king to repopulate the town.”

“How did they die?” Lily asked, eyebrows raised.

“Estela died of a fever. As for Doña Inés, I was told that a witch tricked the nobleman into making a bargain with her in order to keep his wife’s safe in the face of an impending attack upon the town. Unbeknownst to him, the witch had instead placed a curse on him in order to avenge the death of a kinswoman who was murdered by those he had appointed to administer the town during his absence.”

Lily’s eyes widened as she stuttered, “What did she do to him?”

Before responding, Alfonso bowed his head, removed his eyeglasses and rubbed his eyes. “She condemned him to encounter Inés over numerous lifetimes only to watch her die again and again at the hands of the same man who had slain her with his bow and arrow in Cuéllar.”

Lily blinked and sat there, still as a statue, as the implications of what she had just been told began to sink in. It can’t be true. Things like that just don’t happen in real life. Still, she asked him the question that was uppermost in her mind. “What was his name?”

Alfonso looked at her solemnly and said, “I think that you already know.”

For a moment or two, Lily was too shocked to speak. Finally, she said, “You don’t really believe that my Raul was the same nobleman you just spoke of, do you?”

Rather than replying to Lily’s question, Alfonso said, “I brought something for you.” He then turned to his daughter Sofia, who rose to her feet and left the room. “I think it might prove more persuasive than anything that I could possibly say to you in this regard.” When Lily nodded, Alfonso continued. “It’s a painting that has hung in my ancestral home for centuries. But now that Don Raul has finally been laid to rest and left you as his heir, I thought it best to give it to you.”

Within minutes, Sofia returned with the painting in hand. It was enclosed in a box and was being carried in by both Sofia and Lily’s father. They propped it up against the wall by the fireplace. Lily’s legs were shaking when she stood up and walked toward it.

“Would you like me to open this up for you?” Lily’s father asked. She said yes and then patiently waited while he went to the garage to get a box cutter. When he returned, she took a step back and watched with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation as he opened one side of box and then slowly slid it out with Sofia’s help.

The painting was draped in a crimson velvet sheet. Lily asked them to place it in front of the coffee table. Her palms were sweaty as she once again sat down next to Alfonso and contemplated what she might discover upon lifting the sheet from the painting.

“Don’t be afraid. There is nothing to fear,” Alfonso said as he gently placed his hand on her arm. She responded with a weak smile and a nod.

“Here goes nothing,” Lily said under her breath as she leaned forward and reached for the sheet. Slowly, she pulled it away from one corner of the painting and gasped when she uncovered Raul’s visage. His portrait had an eerily lifelike quality to it which caused her to shudder at first. But then, when she moved in for a closer look, she realized that she had nothing to fear. He looked exactly as she had remembered, with his dark brown hair and piercing gaze. She pulled the sheet back further and saw that he was wearing a suit of armor and was standing with one hand propped against the edge of a rather ornate-looking chair while the other was placed on his hip. It was then that she caught sight of a feminine-looking hand resting against the arm of the chair. Inés, Lily thought with trepidation before pulling the rest of the sheet away to reveal the painting in its entirety.

“My God,” Lily uttered softly as she brought her hands to her face. “She looks…”

“Exactly like you,” Alfonso said. At that point, Lily fell to her knees and wept. This was all too much for her still fragile heart to take. Still, she did find some comfort knowing that Alfonso was there with her and understood the pain that she was feeling.

Once her tears finally subsided, she remained seated in front of the painting and tried to take it all in. At one point, she pointed to the necklace with a silver cross around Inés’ neck and said, “That’s beautiful. Did he give it to her?”

“If my memory serves me correctly, I believe that it was one of the many presents that Don Raul bestowed upon his wife during their marriage.”

“He spoke of her only once,” Lily said softly. “I could tell from the sound of his voice that he loved her very much.” She paused, then asked, “Do you think that he’s finally at peace?”

“Yes, I do,” Alfonso said, his voice thick with emotion. “I believe that you had a lot to do with that.”

Lily began to tear up once more as she placed her hand over his and said, “I wish there were words to express how much your coming here has meant to me.” She then looked over at the painting, adding, “I’ll treasure this for as long as I live.”

“It was my pleasure,” Alfonso replied, smiling. “If I or anyone else from my family can ever be of service to you, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Thank you. When Artie is older, I’d like to take him to Spain. Maybe, if it’s not too much trouble, maybe you or someone in your family could take us around to Raul’s ancestral homes and tell him about his family’s history.”

“It would be an honor to do that,” Alfonso replied. “Just let us know when you are ready to come to Spain for a visit and we will take care of the rest.”

  Later that evening, Lily was still thinking about all that Alfonso had said to her as she lay in bed. Slowly, she drifted off to sleep…

Some time later, she awoke with a start and found herself lying in a strange, darkened room lit only by a single candle flickering on a wooden nightstand. Her eyes darted back and forth as she raised herself onto her elbows. Almost immediately, she felt a pair of warm, strong hands grasp her shoulders.

“Lie back down and rest,” said an achingly familiar voice in her ear.

Lily’s breath caught in her throat as she struggled to orient herself and make sense of what was happening to her. “Where am I? Is the baby all right?”

“Estela is fine. She is with her nursemaid, Mencia. She was sound asleep the last time I checked, as should you be.”

“Raul,” Lily croaked. “Is it really you?”

“Were you expecting someone else?” Raul teased. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, mi amor, but alas, it’s only me.”

Lily raised her hands to his face and stroked his cheek. “It is you. I can’t believe it.” She began to weep.

“Don’t cry,” Raul replied as he wiped away her tears and laid down next to her. “It’s Christmas Eve and we have much to be thankful for. God has blessed us with health, prosperity, and, most importantly, a beautiful daughter to love and care for.”

“I love you, Raul.”

“And I, you,” he replied as he raised Lily’s hand to his lips and kissed it. “You and Estela are my life. You have given me more joy in the short time that we’ve been married then I ever thought was possible.”

Lily laid her head against his shoulder and breathed him in. “If this is a dream I hope I never wake up.”

Raul smiled and nuzzled his face against her neck. “Do you want your present now or in the morning?”

“You’re all I could ever possibly need or want,” Lily insisted. Raul placed a finger over her lips to stop her from saying more and then ordered her to close her eyes. She readily complied. Soon afterward, she felt him slowly unfurl her fingers, one by one, before placing his gift in the palm of her hand.

“Open your eyes.”

Lily brought the tiny and relatively lightweight object in her hand up to her face and gasped as soon as she realized what it was: a silver cross and chain. She bit her lip and closed her eyes in a futile effort to keep another round of tears from falling from her eyes. “It’s lovely, Raul. I don’t know what to say.”

“It belonged to my mamá. It was one of her favorite pieces of jewelry. She gave it to me near the time of her death and urged me to give it to the woman I loved.”

“Oh Raul.” That was all Lily could manage to say as he took the silver cross and chain from her hand and placed it around her neck.

“You are so beautiful,” Raul exclaimed with eyes filled with love and devotion.

For a moment, his words appeared to have robbed her of both breath and speech. But as the minutes passed, she began to sense that her time with him was now growing short. At that point, she clutched his arm and said, “Don’t leave me. Ever. I don’t think I could bear it.”

Raul smiled as he tipped her face up to his and said, “I’ll never be far, mi amor. Just close your eyes and think of me and I’ll be there.”

 When Lily awoke early the next morning, she was back in her bedroom. She sat up and reached for her cell phone to see what time it was.  The time and date on the screen was 8 a.m. on December 25. It was Christmas day. She sprang out of bed and headed straight for the nursery. When she stepped into the room, she found her mother sleeping in a cot next to Arturo’s crib. She tiptoed up to him and picked him up before quietly exiting the room so as not to wake her mother up.  

The first thing she noticed upon entering the living room was that the painting was now hanging over the fireplace. Just then, her father walked in from the kitchen and came up beside her as she gazed at Raul and the woman who looked like her doppelganger. “I hope you don’t mind that I put it up on the wall.”

Lily shook her head. “No, not at all. That’s the perfect spot for it. Thank you.”

After taking a sip of coffee from the mug in his hand, he said, “That’s a pretty necklace you’re wearing. Where’d you get it?”

What necklace? Lily thought and looked down at her chest. Her jaw dropped, and her eyes widened in surprise at seeing the silver cross that she had dreamed Raul had given her hanging around her neck. “It belonged to Raul’s mother,” she stammered.

“Really?”

Lily nodded and pointed to the painting, adding, “Do you see that woman in the painting? She’s wearing the very same necklace that I’m wearing now.”

“Well, I’ll be damned,” her father replied. He scratched his head while his eyes darted back and forth a few times between the painting and Lily. “I can’t get over how much you and that woman look alike. If I didn’t know that this piece of art was hundreds of years old, I would have sworn that that woman in the portrait was you.”

Maybe I was her, Lily thought as Alfonso’s fantastic tale once more came to the forefront of her mind.  In another lifetime.

Lily and her father remained standing there in companionable silence for a little while until he decided to excuse himself from the room. Once she was certain that he was no longer within earshot, she pointed to Raul and said, “Look Arturo. Do you see that man in the painting? That’s your Papá.”

While looking down at her son, she thought about all that had happened to her in the last twenty-four hours. Although her rational mind urged her to dismiss Alfonso’s story as the stuff of fairy tales, there was another part of her that felt that he had told her the truth. And wasn’t Arturo’s very existence proof enough that the Raul in Alfonso’s story had really existed and had loved her in this lifetime?

In the end, Lily concluded that there were certain things in this life that simply defied explanation. All she knew and cared to know was that the brief and intense love she had shared with Raul had been real and had produced a son for her to love and cherish in his absence. For her, that was answer enough.

Now that that question was settled in her mind, she once again turned her attention to the painting. With tear-filled eyes, she looked up at Raul’s face once more and said, “Merry Christmas, mi amor.”

[nightingaelic]

POODLES IN THE WASTELAND

i jest I jest

But 👀

What about pets? Either ones companions would have or a very uncommon one that someone wouldn’t think was a good pet, BUT IS. Deathclaws you can ride like a pony, mole rats that want belly rubs, cazadore’s as cattier pigeons! What are your thoughts?

Or like, Danse or Piper or Fawkes with something hilarious Idek ignore me

Oooookay, here’s my comprehensive list of companions - ALL companions, across Fallouts 3, 4, New Vegas and 76 - and their (headcanon) choices in wasteland pets. I’ll give a little explanation for each - particularly as many of these companions are transients and don’t have the luxury of owning a home to keep pets at. Also, I feel like most of the companions, while they might not necessarily like pets, would be somewhat fond or at least respectful of the pets of the Lone Wanderer/Courier/Sole Survivor/Vault Dweller, like Dogmeat and Rex. 

Bighorners

Lily Bowen: Everyone’s favorite super mutant grandma is already an experienced shepherdess in Jacobstown, and she’s more than willing to tear some night stalkers apart to keep her herd safe. If that’s not love beyond the norm for wasteland livestock, I don’t know what is. She’s probably given all of her bighorners names after the characters in the television reruns she used to watch on holotape in Vault 17, like Grace and Audrey and Lucille. 

Brahmin

Raul Tejada: Actually spent a decent part of his pre-war life living on a ranch, so he knows that most brahmin don’t deserve being labeled “irritable” just because people don’t know how to read their body language. I think he’d follow wild brahmin herds around a bit on a whim and keep them from coming to any harm, especially the little ones. He gives them names like the cattle he grew up with, Corazon and Gordo and Blanca. 

Rose of Sharon Cassidy: Doesn’t truck with the wild herds, but she knows that part of the success of a caravan lies with how well they treat their pack animals. All of her caravan’s brahmin have names - Penny, Magic and Sprinkles - and she’s careful to pair them up with drivers who are patient and work well with their various personalities. 

Cats

Butch DeLoria: While Butch ultimately decided to leave Vault 101 behind, I don’t think he would ever truly lose his fear of radroaches after what they did to his mom. Having a little friend to warm his bunk in Rivet City and pounce on intruders would probably set his mind at ease, maybe a black tomcat with one ear named Pepper. He might even gift his mom a kitten when he next comes to visit. 

Star Paladin Cross: I don’t think Cross much sees the use of an animal that doesn’t contribute to the community it lives in, like most of the Brotherhood of Steel. Cats, however, are excellent at pest control, even if the rats are bigger nowadays. I think she’d give the resident cats at the Citadel some pets in passing, and she’d smile when she has to extract playful kittens from inside her power armor frame. She’s especially fond of the cat colony’s matriarch, a scarred old tabby named Gemma. 

Curie: Upon her transition into a synth body, Curie is overjoyed with most animals and their new willingness to approach her for attention. She especially loves cats because she can pick them up and better feel their fur and purring. Her favorite cat is an orange stray in Diamond City that she calls Claude. 

Piper Wright: A companion for Nat when she’s out adventuring, an unbiased friend to bounce the latest opinion piece off of before going to print, and a lap-warmer for when you’re typing up the latest article about the exploits of the Minutemen - what’s not to like? The Wright family cat is a slippery, elegant calico named Sugar Bomb. 

Preston Garvey: While the Minutemen forts and settlements definitely lean more toward keeping dogs around for security purposes, I think Preston likes his pets quieter and less likely to bowl you over in excitement. The one most likely to sleep with him in his bunk at Sanctuary is a grumpy gray gentleman named Anchovy. 

Deathclaws

Veronica Santangelo: If anyone is crazy enough to swipe a deathclaw egg from a nest and try to hatch, rear and train a personal killing machine named Izzy, it’s Veronica. This will probably just alienate her from her Brotherhood chapter even more, but I’m sure she would take special care to make sure that her usual Mojave Wasteland haunts take a peek through a scope to see if the approaching deathclaw has a human on its back before taking a shot. 

Dogs

Clover: I don’t think Clover gets out beyond Paradise Falls much, so the only animals she’s used to are the dogs the raiders bring around when passing through. She probably has favorites among the usual visitors and enjoys tossing them bits of meat when she’s allowed to get away from Eulogy and Crimson. If liberated, she’d probably get at least three of her own dogs to watch over her while she sleeps: One small dog to carry with her, a Pekingese or Pomeranian descendant named Coco, and two large dogs to follow through on intimidation and protection, a mastiff named Rock and a Doberman descendant named Roll. 

Jericho: Jericho doesn’t deserve a dog but he’d probably have one around anyway to sniff out caps caches and hidden loot after he’s shot everyone in the vicinity. Some slinky beagle mix named Dewey, probably. 

Fawkes: I don’t think Fawkes would be picky at all about what kind of dog he’d have. He strikes me as the type who would adopt any half-friendly mutt he ran across. I do think he would have a bit of a soft spot for friendlier mutant hounds, though, and maybe view their mutated circumstances as similar to his own. He’d also be absolutely amazing at playing fetch. Just imagine how far he could lob a stick or ball. All of his dogs would have literary names too, like Byron and Agatha and Edgar. 

Craig Boone: Though he’s a bit of a prodigy at sniping, Boone knows his limitations when it comes to spotting hidden enemies on the horizon. I can see him having a hound dog at his side to find the more elusive ones and help him get rid of them faster. Maybe a bloodhound mutt named Bravo. 

Cait: Doesn’t like people, but she adores dogs. Having had the life where she’s been abused, exploited and forced into slavery, she’s keenly aware that those like the ones who took advantage of her treat dogs much the same. She’s very protective of any dog she encounters and is very likely to punch you in the face if you so much as look at one wrong. She’d probably name any pup she adopted Lucky. 

Hancock: Honestly, he’s just a fan of any animal that is happy to hang out with you whether you’re drunk, high, fighting raiders or patrolling downtown Boston. The Goodneighbor strays know him as the guy who always has mirelurk jerky in his pockets. His favorite is a rough-and-tumble, black-and-white spotted cattle dog descendant that he cheekily calls King George. 

Robert MacCready: He’s not quick to trust dogs, but once he’s sure they’re not a threat, they’re one of the few critters around which he’ll relax completely. He’s still a little wary of them around Duncan, but any dog that’s a part of his family is more or less his son’s permanent babysitter. 

Nick Valentine: Dogmeat is also basically his dog. The two have a history of working cases together, with Dogmeat just turning up whenever a trail goes cold and leading Nick to the evidence he needs to reopen his investigation. Nick doesn’t know how or why Dogmeat does it, but he’s not about to ruin a good thing. 

Strong: I don’t think he would turn down a ferocious mutant hound as a friend. He’d probably feed it mole rats and call it something like Killer. 

Foxes

Beckett: This former raider has a love-hate relationship with a fox that keeps going through his trash. He affectionately calls him Lil’ Bastard. 

Sofia Daguerre: Having crashed back to an earth she doesn’t recognize, I think Sofia would be tickled that the foxes of Appalachia have basically stayed the same despite the bombs. I can see her leaving dinner scraps out on her porch for one that she sometimes spots in the foliage, and slowly coaxing the critter to come into the light. She names her Scarlett once she finally convinces her to eat out of her hand. 

Mega sloths

Settler forager: I would not be at all surprised if this man ran into a mega sloth in the Mire and decided to try befriending it. The creature, probably surprised at this old guy’s nerve, decided to accept the handful of leaves he offered and grew slowly more fond of the guy’s persistence. It doesn’t know its name is Fergus but it does know that if a human is wearing overalls, it’s probably not a threat. 

Mole rats

Deacon: Alright, hear me out. Deacon has a fondness for underdogs, and mole rats are about as underdog as they come. I think Deacon thinks these little guys are cute despite their wrinkles and buck teeth, and I think he sees the value in having a tunneling pet that likes to collect shiny things. One of his deep cover hideouts is in an old tunnel system in the northern Commonwealth, where he hangs out with a young mole rat named Henry. 

Owls

Raider punk: This radio operator got wind of an abandoned nest of owlets in Appalachia early on in his career and, being the nearest to the report, decided to rescue the little guys. Now he has three owls that occasionally drop in at his camp to hoot and accept handouts: Nona, Decima and Morta. While he’s still fond of them, he’s usually disappointed that they aren’t the Mothman coming to visit. 

Rad chickens

Yasmin Chowdhury: Ever the opportunistic cook, she picked up the practice of raising chickens from the settlers at Foundation and has four hens of her own: Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme. The “ladies,” as she refers to them, give her a constant stream of eggs for omelets. 

Ravens

Settler wanderer: This gal has an affinity with birds, who are always on the move like her. She admires their ability to be untethered and let the wind take them far and wide. Nevertheless, she likes to scatter corn when they come close to her on the road, and formed a sort of friendship with a particularly handsome specimen that she calls Tornado. 

Wolves

Old Longfellow: This guy is the epitome of the meme about dads not wanting pets and then instantly falling in love with whatever animal enters their life. He probably found an injured wolf pup in his travels around the island and took pity on it, nursing it back to health in his cabin. It’s still got a bit of a twisted paw, but follows him around and listens like any other dog and answers to the name Lamoine. 

Yao guai

Porter Gage: I bet this guy adopted an orphaned bear cub and raised it by hand. Now it’s so big that even if Gage thinks he’s an easy target for other raiders due to his age, he’s much less likely to get singled out than he thinks because he has a yao guai following him around like a puppy. The bear’s name is Fuzzy Wuzzy. It has no hair. 

No pets, thanks

Charon: Too likely to accidentally wind up in the line of fire. 

Sergeant RL-3: Too easily corrupted by Communist influences. 

Arcade Gannon: Too much time spent getting in your way. 

Codsworth: Too likely to make messes. 

Paladin Danse: Too many wasted resources. 

X6-88: Too much of a liability. 

Ada: Too easy to lose when on the move. 

Solomon Hardy: Too unsanitary.