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
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.
“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 shit 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. ^^