Work Text:
A tough man peers through a gap in a pile of blankets huddled on a bed. “This ain't the worst radstorm we’ve ever experienced, Shrap’. This ol’ tub will hold.”
The massive metal carcass that is Rivet City, shakes and booms under the force of the lightning continuously casting itself down from the sky. Zeus has become a ghoul, and he ain’t happy about it.
“...”
“Mrs Young made this for us,” Flak sniffs the chocolate cake he’s holding. “But if you wanna stay there-”
Blankets cast themselves at the ceiling as Shrapnel launches himself out of his homemade bomb shelter.