-Washington D.C.-
-2277, August 17, 09:58-
-Vault 101 Entrance-
-Lone Wanderer's P.O.V.-
A young man sat upon a rock, breathing raggedly, before the wooden shack door leading into the cavernous entrance of Vault 101, blood leaking from a grazing gunshot wound over his right brow. The young 19 year old looked to have been through hell, his clean cut dirty blonde hair slightly ruffled from the firefight that was his unexpected escape of the only sheltered home he ever knew, a N99 10mm Pistol with an under-barrel weight hanging loosely in his left hand, the arm of said hand resting limply along his left knee while furiously scratching his head with his right hand. His brown eyes showed many emotions, mainly anger, confusion, regret, despair, and deep depression at what became of his life in such a short amount of time since being shaken awake by his childhood friend Amata. A police baton hung around his Vault 101 Utility Jumpsuit's belt, while he used a leather belt and some torn thread from one of his spare jumpsuits to secure a baseball bat and BB gun at his back. His black boots, while not visible, were matted in blood, dirt, sand, and oil. A pouch hanging from his right shoulder held what supplies he managed to secure in his mad dash to safety.
This young man is known as Allen Miller, son of James and Catherine Miller, and a (Now) former resident of Vault 101.
His father... Somehow, left vault 101, and essentially threw the whole vault into a raging ball of disarray and insanity, and because of Allen being his son, he was the next best thing for a scape goat.
Allen would admit that he was curious about the surface all his life, a type of wild heart he supposed, but he never thought he'd every actually get to see it, let along the hellish way in which it actually came to happen!
He had been aspiring for the spot of a mechanic for Christ's sake! He was the one they had work on Andy or helped Stanley with the fusion reactor! How the hell was he even suspected in the first place?! Sure, he had a close relationship with his father, but it wasn't like his father openly told him everything!
Finally releasing a sigh, albeit a rather shuddering one, he forced himself to ease up with a bottle of water. He had about five bottles on him, and he hardly even needed to drink much to begin with, so he should be fine for a short while... But that didn't mean he didn't need food. He just hoped that he wouldn't have to eat anything... Too nasty.
A simple glimpse out at the expanse that was the surface made his expression straighten in a rather dry expression.
He doubted his reservations and picky choices will survive.
With a final, withering gaze upon the wooden door, Allen forced himself to his feet, dusting off his Vault 101 leggings, pulled back the slide of the 10mm for some minor sense of ease, and began walking down the dirt slope into the newly revealed unknown.
