Mischievous Mac's Merry Manuscripts!

Howdy everyone, I return after a very long Halloween Hangover with moar mischievous writings to share with you all! I figured I'd just make a thread devoted to dumping Dirty Bomb fanfiction instead of making a new thread for every story.


Inspired by a comment by Important Chicken Business to "write about Phantom killing a guy for a pizza without seeming as psychotic," I started a short story about a group of mercs attempting to acquire said pizza, and in the process may have made Phantom even more psychotic.

I've also made a tumblr blog devoted just to Dirty Fanfiction, which is accepting submissions if anyone's interested in contribooting: https://dirtybombfics.tumblr.com/

Without further ado, here be the first issue of: Phantom & Proxy’s Perilous Pizza Panache

--

~-Prologue-~

Smoke trailed off into the dusty yellow sky as the pillar of flame spread, completely engulfing the CDA tower. Above it, an enormous yellow net, consisting of pulsing shields with the appearance of dozens of interlocking triangle shapes, sputtering faintly. Proxy wiped her brow, removing the welding mask from her head to better survey her handiwork.

The anti-radiation net sputtered in the air momentarily, but didn’t seem to dissipate.

This isn’t actually working, is it. She thought to herself. She sat on the soot covered ground, suddenly acutely aware of the ridiculous amount of blood she had lost in the mission leading up to destroying the bloody tower. Phoenix’s nanites were taking longer to do their job than usual.

The subtle, tell tale sound of something shimmering near her made her instinctively reach for her Deagle, but then she relaxed.

“Feck off, Phantom,” she said into thin air. On cue, a body shaped glob of bent light materialized into a tall man in thick, samurai-like body armor with a glorified hockey mask. He had his katana drawn in an exaggerated, over the head swing.

“Well hellooo to you too,” he said, sheathing the blade with a laugh. “Who pissed in your crumpets today kiddo?”

“Believe me, I’d tell you what I think of you, but there wouldn’t be enough asterisks to print it with in the after action report to the boss,” Proxy said, getting up and wincing as her right leg, covered in buckshot holes, protested loudly. “But besides that, look at this mess. All that work and the bloody containment shield’s still in one piece, not a single hair out of place.”

“I dunno, seemed like a successful op to me,” Phantom said, casually cleaning flecks of blood off his katana. “Even made someone piss their pants earlier! Hey, you ever check out those reaction vids of kids playing that, weird furfag game, uh, Three Nights at Teddy’s? It’s sort of like that, except that I’m a shark on land with a gun, instead of a stuffed animal with a dild-” Phantom trailed off, noticing that his victim had long since moved away. Proxy was nearly inside a warehouse when Phantom called out to her again.

“Hey mine monkey, we’re gonna grab pizza! Want any?”

Proxy stopped short in her tracks, turning her one good eye back.

“…what?”

-Part 1-

“Yo, isn’t Sparks supposed to be the squad leader?” Vassili asked as the on duty mercenaries filed into a makeshift war room constructed out of empty cartons of milk and yogurt and a tarp. Phantom had cleared a foldable table of munitions and disarmed explosives and laid a roughly drawn map of the local area on it, which was created with magic marker. The map, in addition to being difficult to read, sported several cigarette burn marks and stains of unknown origin.

“I think she’s still stuck in medical, after the EV incident,” Fragger said, popping open a flask of whiskey and swigging it. He offered the drink to Vassili who knocked it back gratefully, his hood falling back to reveal a balding scalp. “Uh, you need some rogaine there, buddy?”

“The hell’s rogaine?” Vassili sputtered back.

“Better question, how does a turret suddenly pew pew pew over one of our precious medics?” Kira said, her accent lighting up over the “pew” noise in a manner too adorable to describe here. She had a broken ammo station slung over her shoulder, which earlier in the day she tried to use as a shield with little success. Behind her Proxy stumbled in, her leg freshly bandaged. The assembled mercenaries turned to look at her accusingly.

“Oh, everyone’s with the undercut these days.” She said, exasperated. “I didn’t do @$!# with-”

“Settle down everymerc, otherwise I’ll have to EMPHASIZE EVERY WORD in a SELF IMPORTANT MANNER while I describe the operation,” Phantom said, his eyes glinting through his painted hockey mask. Behind him he had drawn an overly complicated mess of boxes and arrows that vaguely resembled a football play.

“You mean more than you already do…?” Proxy said, her eye rolling, but Phantom ignored her.

“For too long have we mercenaries been forced to rely on bad tasting food for guns and Skyhammer’s questionable taste buds. Tonight, we will dine… on PIZZA! Using this ingenious plan stretched out on the whiteboard behind me, we will-”

“Uh, excuse me, question! Question, otaku-sempai!” Kira said, raising her hand and waving in an overly exaggerated manner. Phantom’s vein pulsed.

“What is it, trash waifu?” Phantom replied. Kira scowled for all of a millisecond.

“Where are you going to find pizza just outside London’s Dome in a location that’s still three fourths covered in radiation?”

Phantom raised a finger to retort, and then quickly brought it back, turning to face his whiteboard. He raised a hand to scratch his chin. Behind him, Proxy facepalmed.

“Er, we could uh, raid the grocer warehouse maybe?” Vassili said, piping up as he rubbed his balding head mournfully.

“A grocer warehouse,” Phantom said, turning around, “In our irradiated London?”

“Yeah, it’s more likely than you’d think,” Vassili said, pointing to the boxes holding up the tent. “Where’d you think I found all that yogurt we had last night?”

“Well, I’m sold,” Fragger said, getting up and tapping his armored belly. “When do we head out?”

“Ready your gun food and reload hearty,” Phantom said, putting his fingers together menacingly, “For tonight, we dine on-”

“You already used that joke,” Proxy said, cutting him off. Instead of glaring, Phantom exited the tent from behind his whiteboard, sulking.

--

So, how was it? Any comments/criticisms? All is welcome.

I'll post more tomorrow. ^^

-Mac

Comments

  • Lord_CoctusLord_Coctus Posts: 2,300
    I like


    Fun note: So far of the team we see is:
    1 Firesupport
    2 Recon
    1 Engi
    1 Assault


    Proxy + 2 recons? Sure this isn't a story of low levels?

    MakeMachinePistolsGoodAgain

  • Shh... ;)
  • GatoCommodoreGatoCommodore Posts: 4,318
    nice Rare pepe
    Hope County Choir - Keep Your Rifle By Your Side
                                                                    
  • GatoCommodoreGatoCommodore Posts: 4,318
    edited March 2017
    Post edited by GatoCommodore on
    Hope County Choir - Keep Your Rifle By Your Side
                                                                    
  • > @GatoCommodore said:
    > nice Rare pepe

    Thanks! It actually belongs to Dyrak, though. He was linked in the About section.
  • Time for Round 2:
    -Part 2-

    Nestled on the outskirts of the overrun London Dome, sandwiched between crumbling brick buildings and rusted, corrugated metal, sat a building which would have been pristine were it not for the bullet holes and blast markings that peppered its outside walls. The Frigidaire still had food and refugees escaping the dirty bomb attacks when the CDA arrived, but as the infighting intensified, both quickly evacuated the area.

    Now, an unfamiliar group of men in brown camouflage sporting over customized rifles stalked around the building, their masks and thick armor transforming their silhouettes into something distinctly less than human. From around a corner, a ten foot tall suit of powered armor loudly clanked its way in front of the building, which had a newly installed modern security door that looked designed to survive rifle fire.

    “The hell is this? Did we walk onto the set of a Japanese anime or something?” Vassili said, as the group of mercs crouched behind a slab of corrugated metal hidden barely a block away, “They were not here last night.”

    “Brownwater Security,” Phantom said, looking through a set of binoculars, “Hot @$!# from the ‘States.”

    “Convenient naming eh?” Proxy chortled.

    “Alright, so here’s the plan. Three of us are going to assault the scrubs in piss armor from the front, while two of us sneak around them and blow open the door,” Phantom said, pulling out a small notebook as he did so. “And one of those sneaky @$!# is going to be me. Now who-” he looked up. Proxy shifted uncomfortably to the side, exchanging furtive glances with Kira, whose Stark was already drawn. Fragger whistled to himself, casually playing with one of his grenades while Vassili pretended not to hear any of them.

    “Well then,” Phantom said, putting away his binoculars, “Proxy, you’re with me. Everyone else, wait till I give the signal.”

    “And that is…?” Kira piped up, checking her rifle’s magazine.

    “When I yell out one of my trademark catchphrases, a foot or more in some scrub’s innards,” Phantom said, drawing his katana with a flourish. “Or, y'know, when I say 'go,’ but whatever. Do your things kids.”



    With little time wasted on a transition montage of two experienced mercenaries sneaking their way barely a block from their original position to somewhere vaguely near the objective, Phantom and Proxy chilled within a stone’s throw away from said objective. “Alright MLG proscoper, light em up,” Phantom spoke into his mic.

    “One shot, one kill, one- second,” Vassili said, pulling out a round object roughly the size of a billiards ball from a coat pocket. "Gonna throw a sensor over there. Just to be sure, you know.“ Vassili said, "Heart beat sensor GOING OUT!” he yelled as he threw the device.

    It sailed clear over a hill of rubbish before rolling to a stop, landing smack dab in the middle of the group of the browncoats. The mechsuit tilted at an angle to examine the device, with a few of the soldiers stepping up to look it over. Two of them turned to face the three mercenaries, who stood dumbfounded, Kira covering her mouth in surprise.

    “I, er, meant to do that,” Vassili said, ducking as Fragger pulled him behind cover. A hail of gunfire erupted in their general direction, ripping apart the foundations beneath them as the construction started to churn with bullet holes. Proxy could hear the sound of cursing and gunfire through Phantom’s headset.

    “Good god, are they alright over there?” she said, as suddenly a clear line broke through the madness on the other end: “EAT PINEAPPLE!”

    Ahead of them, the powered armor, its guns on full auto, clanked loudly away from the warehouse while the smaller mooks followed suit with frightening uniformity. The two mercenaries slowly crept their way forward, reaching the door unmolested. Proxy pulled out a pack of C4 and connected it to her customized phone.

    “So, why do you hate each other again?” Phantom piped up, leaning against the wall as Proxy worked.

    “I don’t hate her, but she’s still has her Hello Kitty panties in a twist over me letting you know who stole your katana,“ Proxy said, carefully pushing her phone’s touch screen in a complicated order.

    “So it wasn’t you?”

    “For the last bloody time-”

    “Ok, ok, ok, I wasn’t that upset about losing the katana. I mean, I will still skewer both of you and roast you over a spit if I ever lost it again, but it wasn’t that bad of an experience, just an annoying one," Phantom said, shrugging.

    “And I wish she would understand that instead of driving me up the wall with her passive aggressive ‘I am going to cut you like blue fin tuna in your sleep Lisa, just you wait’ look every time we’re within spitting distance of each other,” Proxy said, mocking Kira’s accent. The C4 beeped pleasantly, its digital timer beginning to count down from thirty seconds. She disconnected her phone.

    “Yeah, yeah, yeah, hey, so uh, Hello Kitty panties right?” Phantom said, drawing his katana. Proxy froze.

    “… you so much as breathe a word about me saying that and it’s fecking goodnight for you, you yankee @$!#.” Proxy said, unlatching her Hollunds. "Now let’s blow this popsicle stand and get out of-” she turned to find Phantom had already gone, his chant of “weewooweewooweewoo” disappearing around a corner.

    “Identify yourself!” said a loud, garbled voice. A lightly armored soldier wearing a blacked out facemask stood behind her, assault rifle aimed at her head with lethal purpose. Proxy cursed.

  • GatoCommodoreGatoCommodore Posts: 4,318
    >brown water

    did you know its the synonym of runny diarrhea?
    Hope County Choir - Keep Your Rifle By Your Side
                                                                    
  • > @GatoCommodore said:
    > >brown water
    >
    > did you know its the synonym of runny diarrhea?

    You could say they're a @$!# company. ^^
  • Hey again. The story was actually completed a while ago, but I neglected to continue posting it here. Let's rectify that with:

    -Part 3-
    “Where’s the signal!?” Kira yelled over the sound of gunfire as the building groaned from sheer weight of so much lead. The door had been shut just in the nick of time, the hinges connecting the flimsy slab of metal to the old concrete foundations warping with pressure. A section of the concrete blew open followed by bits of rebar, but before a Brownwater agent could take advantage, Fragger lobbed a grenade through it. The explosion rocked the wall further, causing pieces of wood to fall from the ceiling.

    “Beats me, I just work here!” Vassili yelled back, drawing his MP400 machine pistol and sticking the barrel through the hole in concrete. He had his back against the metal door, awkwardly firing blindly with the pistol while trying to keep the door shut.

    The upper hinges fell out of their sockets, rusted screws split in two by the repeated attacks of the soldiers on the other side. Kira drew a knife and, pulling Vassili out of the way, jammed it between the door handle and a piece of metal.

    “We need an exit plan, now!” Vassili cried, as he backed away from the door, drawing his MOA sniper rifle.

    “This place is a death trap,” Fragger said, pulling away from the wall as well, reloading his K-121 machine gun, “Is there any way out back?”

    Kira moved to the other end of the hall, bits of light rays peaking out through holes in the decrepit roof. She slid a way a piece of rotted wooden planks and spied a look outside, gritting her teeth.

    “We can probably shoot our way back here, but…” she said, moving some strands of hair out of her face, “T-there's a fall. Maybe two or three stories.”

    “Hell honey, I’m not sure if a short fall is more dangerous than a group of goons with AP rounds…” Fragger said, pulling back the charging handle.

    “AP rounds? How do you figure that?” Vassili said, looking over. A telltale trail of blood leaked its way out of Fragger’s mouth- a couple holes burned through the front of his thickly armored jacket. “Oh…”

    “It’s just a fleshwound,” Fragger said, smiling. Suddenly, the gunfire stopped. The door, still wedged shut by Kira’s knife, lay still.

    The enormous clanking of heavy steel on crushed rock shuddered the ground from the outside in.

    “Get behind me, get behind me!” Fragger yelled, moving to the center back of the room as the wall and door caved in entirely, a wave of a dozen brown mooks and their heavy mech-warrior flooding in as it did so. Smoke from the debris curtained the room, obfuscating the soldiers’ vision; a small object, roughly the size of a billiards ball, rolled to their feet.

    Two soldiers, one standing behind the other, flew backward violently as a fifty caliber round obliterated the man’s face in front, and over penetrated the one behind him. Some of the soldiers fell to their knees or prone in an attempt to return fire, but soon found their helmets caved in, one gasping for air as a three round burst exited his esophagus.

    “Boom, head shot,” Vassili whispered to himself, cocking the bolt back and taking aim again. Fragger laughed as he opened up with his machine gun, choking through the blood as he did so. His companions joined in his excitement, ripping away at the mooks as they attempted to flee.

    “We’re still alive,” Fragger said, coughing up a mix of blood and spittle,

    “And five of you ain’t! Oh, make that six,” Kira continued for him, catching a soldier in the arm and chest as he tried to escape, “Wait, why do I feel like we’re forgetting something import-”

    The towering powered armor’s silhouette appeared faintly in the smoke, two muzzles flaring as its miniguns tore through the support pillars of the building. The mercenaries fell to the ground as the bullets sweeped above them, opening a large hole at the back of the building. A portion of the side wall began to fall inward as it crumpled under the damage.

    “Look out!” Fragger yelled, grabbing Vassili as he tried to roll away from the collapsing wall. In the chaos, neither man could tell which direction they were rolling, and both disappeared off the edge of the building as the wall caved in.

    “Fragger?” Kira said weakly, coughing, “Vassili?” She struggled to pull herself out of the wreckage, feeling a sharp pain in her spine and leg. Looking down, she saw a long piece of rebar splitting through her right leg, which itself was twisted in an awkward angle. She lay back, seeing the sky poke through the missing pieces of roof. Her hand brushed against a warm piece of rubber, connected to her small orbital laser designator. She smiled- the device was still in one piece, somehow.

    Ahead of her, the distinct sound of two spinning miniguns grew louder as the power armor stepped into view. A distorted voice, like harsh laughter, emanated from where she assumed was the cockpit. It tilted its two miniguns in her direction, red hot from overuse.
    “Any-scchh-last words, scrub?” the mech pilot said. Kira slowly wrapped her hand around the laser designator, and its trigger…

    “…ight with deadly might…” she whispered.

    “Speak up, noob,” the pilot said again, stepping closer, “Before I teabag your corpse until you’re literally a scrub pancake.”

    “Worship…” Kira spoke up, voice hoarse, “the pillar…”

    “Eh?” The mechpilot tilted his machine downward, trying to make out what Kira was doing. As he scrutinized the woman, he looked up in horror as a series of small red lasers focused on the armored glass above him

    “Of Fire,” she said, as a brilliant blast of blue light careened from the heavens, split the clouds in the sky and enveloped the mech in a beautiful, shiny light…

    --

    https://dirtybombfics.tumblr.com/post/158788278242/phantom-proxys-perilous-pizza-panache
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