Chapter 1 - Utopia

This is the first fan fiction I've ever written, so I hope you'll be gentle.

The characters and the setting used in this story belong to their rightful owners. I do not claim ownership, for this is a fiction based on a fiction written for entertainment purposes without profit.

Thoughts will be in italics.

Rated M for violence, language, and possibly adult themes later on.

Another Road, Another Journey

He awoke with a gasp.

A lone man, features hidden beneath an articulate mass of leather and armor, jolted upright in the middle of a clearing. He took a moment to analyze his surroundings.

What the hell? Trees? Grass?

The last he knew, he was in the basement of the Lucky 38, fiddling with a device Mr. House had stowed away. A light had blinded him before he found himself in the clearing.

The land's flat, so I'm not near Jacobstown. No mantises or Bighorners around, either.

The man activated a screen attached to his wrist, the words "Pip-Boy Model 3000" clear among the dials and buttons around it. Upon the screen, an arrow surrounded by darkness was displayed.

The man felt a hint of despair as his assumption was confirmed. He had never been here before.

He swore under his breath, this being the forth time he was stranded in a foreign land without any knowledge on how to get back to the Mojave.

First the Sierra Madre, then Zion, and then Big Mountain. At least the Divide was kind enough to give me an exit.

Frustrated, he pulled himself to his feet and took inventory. He wore a chest plate, painted green, under a pair of bandoliers that held various bullets and pouches. Around his waist were a few belts, one of which held a canteen with the number "11" printed clearly on the front. Tan cargo pants covered his legs; his feet bore plated combat boots. Green plates protected his knees. On top of it all was a duster coat, laden with a pair of pouches on the arms, bracers on the forearms, pauldrons on the shoulders, and leather gloves on the hands. A combat helmet covered his head; an ominous gas mask covered his face. The number "100" was printed on the collar protecting his neck.

Armor, check. Beats wandering around naked.

The man looked to his side to find a familiar knapsack and a large footlocker. His curiosity took precedence over his inhibitions, and he began searching through them.

So my pack made it here, too. That's good, I think.

He paused upon opening the footlocker, revealing an impressive collection of unique weapons and apparel.

Weapons and apparel the man had seen before.

How in the hell did my personal footlocker end up... wherever the hell I am?

The man pondered his situation while he scanned the surrounding environment for any threats he had missed previously.

This isn't like the last time I was kidnapped. Whoever did this had access to the presidential suite.

A foul taste entered the man's mouth as he considered being betrayed.

No. Never. We've been through too much together. None of them would stoop that low.

He shook his head, resolving to wait until more answers were present before he began making more assumptions. His eyes settled on a beaten dirt path among the trees. The man sighed.

No matter how many roads I travel, there's always one more in the distance.

He opened the footlocker and pulled out a pump-action hunting shotgun, characterized by synthetic camouflage painted on its pump and stock. He then picked up the footlocker by the handle on its side, barely struggling with its considerable weight. The man, The Courier, prepared himself for the long haul ahead.

Oh dear, I hope that wasn't too terrible. Please give advice in the reviews. Oh, and please review.

In case you couldn't tell from the description, The Courier is wearing the Elite Riot Gear and Elite Riot Helmet from Lonesome Road, and the shotgun he pulls out in the end is the Dinner Bell from the main game.

Oh, and if you want information on this Courier, (you know, like his name) it will be given over time. As for pairings, I don't have any planned... yet.