#halo season 2

[mrssylargray]

[inafieldofdaisies]

Halo (2022-) | Season 2, Episode 8 “Halo”, The Season Finale | Favorite scenes (vol. 2-2)

“This armor doesn't belong to them. It belongs to me. To the ones who are gone. And the ones who are still in the fight.”

[heylolita00]

[sealkymilky]

Didn't really expect to see so many smiles from Master Chief in Season 2, Episode 6, but here we are... somehow. And yes, my definition of "smile" is pretty spacious and includes Smirks, Half-Smiles and Almost-Smiles. Part 1!

[gustavo-pereirar]

Bye Bye 👋

[miladygeek]

Primeiro episódio da nova temporada de "Halo: The Series" já está disponível!! 💣💥

[ageless-aislynn]

[officialpabloschreiber @ Instagram]

[threshergm]

Eulogy

A little scene from my upcoming John and Talia slow-burn titled Missing Pieces. Wanted to see what the tumblr community thought of it first before I really committed to a serious writing schedule and started hammering out word count. @lpmurphy @authortobenamedlater @mrtobenamedlater @fabulaprima @silverpelt3600

@t65flyer @ionlymadethissoicouldleaveanask @sarnakhwritesthings @makowrites @morganas-pendragons

@ageless-aislynn @pelgraine @inafieldofdaisies @helix-studios117 @littleneonlily

2327 hours, April 5th, 2552 (military calendar) UNSC Halcyon-class light cruiser Pillar of Autumn Slipspace transit on randomized vector per Cole Protocol Leaving the Branta system, bound for Reach

"Have you seen Corporal Perez?"

Even in just his techsuit, the Master Chief seemed to fill the corridor. Which is probably why the crewman apprentice he was addressing was trying to disappear into the bulkhead. Even with Cortana gone for six months now, he could practically hear her hum, "Social graces, Chief," and took a step back.

The E2 - name tape obscured by the apron he still wore upon emerging from the galleys - gaped and pointed down the corridor, muttering, "On the right," indicating a sliding steel door opposite the entrance to the forward enlisted mess.

Chief nodded once, gruffed a perfunctory, "Thank you," and stalked down the corridor. The Pillar of Autumn, functioning on military standard timekeeping now that they were underway, was in night mode. The chrono above the enlisted mess hatchway glowed a red 2327 hours, and the main lights overhead were off, leaving the only light in the corridor as one lonely lamp over the door labeled FREEZER A-19.

Chief snaked his hand into the recessed handle and yanked the door aside on its track, and stepped inside. He found a single light on inside as well; illuminating shelves and racks of frozen foods, three black body bags on the floor, and next to them, wrapped in a gray Navy-issue blanket, dark hair cascading off her shoulders, sat Corporal Perez.

Master Chief took two firm steps forward, stopping a stride from where the young Marine sat, legs tucked under herself. He stopped and settled into parade rest.

"Corporal Perez, why are you not at your post? Our shift began over a half-hour ago."

She didn't budge, save for breaths that came shallow and a little jaggedly, as if she'd been crying.

"Corporal Perez?"

Silence hung in the artificially frigid air, and Chief began to wonder if he should walk to the wall intercom and summon a medical corpsman. He glanced around, as if missing something, then returned his gaze to the small woman on the floor before him.

"Rand had a thing for me," she croaked out suddenly. So she had been crying. She didn't turn, didn’t move, except to reach a hand out from her woolen cocoon to stroke the bodybag nearest her.

"He always used to sit next to me in the chow hall on drill weekends, but he never knew what to talk about. 'Are you enjoying your chicken, Corporal?'" She laughed weakly, "'Rand, it's just fucking chicken. The same chicken we had last month and every month before that.'"

Her accent thickened alongside the sorrow in her voice. "We picked him up on Midvale back in '49, after the Red United Front bombed that dam. Pulled him off the roof of his family's ranch house with his two sisters. His sisters settled on Culloden, but he stayed. He was one of our full-timers; the Colonel found a job for him as the armorer's assistant. He lived on-base and sent all his pay to his sisters so they could buy land and start again."

She took in a shuddering breath, shoulders trembling underneath her blanket. "He said he saw something in the fog. Country boy, you know? Grew up hunting and I… I should have believed him."

She seemed to shrink in on herself for a moment, hunching against some wordless pain, until a low keening wail escaped, “He was only 19!” She shook her head, and Chief saw hot tears fly, while she bit her lip and fought to get her emotions under control. After a moment, with a grunt of pain, her hand shifted from one body bag to the next.

"Zara Bennett. She was our linguist. I loved her accent. She was from London, and she was the first person from Earth that I'd ever met. Her dad manages a titanium mine out in Tengeri back home on Reach. They're loaded, but you'd never guess it from Zara, we used to go thrift-shopping together. Her parents have a penthouse in downtown New Alexandria, and she could have gone to university back on Earth, easily. But she enlisted. Said she wanted to protect her new home." 

She patted the body bag fondly, black plastic crinkling in the silence, and her hand extended a little further.

"Milo Alvarez. He used to bag groceries down the street from my grandparent's place. He was an atheist, and we always used to argue and… oh, God!" Her voice broke. "I don't know where he is right now…" 

She bowed her head, leaning into the body bag, as if shielding it like Chief had shielded her from the glassing beam on that mountainside, sobs hitching her shoulders, "H-he didn't know you, Father, but take him home… take him home."

She lapsed into Spanish, a language Chief didn't know, and he fervently wished Cortana was there to translate. His brow furrowed; the lack of knowledge a gap in his preparation, the gap in his understanding suddenly a splinter in his mind. Without thinking, he took a step forward, closing the distance between the miserable scene before him, and kneeled beside Perez.

“You speak well for them.” He spoke in low tones; he wasn’t sure why. It simply felt right to do so. Perez stopped, turned upwards to face him, dark eyes reddened and slender face puffy in the dim light of the freezer. “God, I h-hope so. They’re m-my friends.” Tears still flowed freely down her cheeks, and her voice was hoarse. Umber eyes - the color of rich soil Chief had seen on a dozen worlds - held his gaze steadily in the dark, despite the pain swimming in them. “What were you saying, just now? In Spanish?” Chief cocked his head in question. Perez smiled weakly, eyes unfocused for a moment. “Yes, Spanish. I’m from Santiago Circle. I grew up speaking it at home,” she took another breath, steadier this time, “I-I’m Catholic. It was our Prayer for the Dead.” Her eyes met his own in the dark, and she held his gaze for a long moment. Chief wasn’t sure why, but he needed more. The name of a prayer wasn’t enough. He needed to understand this young woman sitting in a pool of her grief beside three corpses. “Tell me what you said,” he rumbled gently. It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t an order. He just needed to know. Perez kept his gaze for another long moment, then began to slowly recite, in English. In your hands, O Lord,

We humbly entrust our brothers and sisters.

In this life you embraced them with your tender love;

Deliver them now from every evil

And bid them eternal rest.

The old order has passed away:

Welcome them into paradise,

Where there will be no sorrow, no weeping or pain,

But fullness of peace and joy

With your Son and the Holy Spirit

Forever and ever.Amen.

The freezer-turned-mortuary fell silent as her recitation ended, and her eyes remained locked with his. “Thank you, Corporal.” The Master Chief rose suddenly, took three steps back, and turned to face her, once more at parade rest, his expression unreadable.

“Corporal Perez, I am not rated in cryotube maintenance or repair. You are. There are 1,042 cryotubes in our area of responsibility and all need to be monitored and, if necessary, serviced without compromising function or the occupant inside. I need you to --”

“I can’t leave them,” Perez croaked, voice thickening once more. Her eyes were pleading, her head shaking slowly. Chief’s augmented heart ached to see it, but he couldn’t say why.

“Corporal Perez,” Chief started slowly, not sure how to proceed. “You’re no good to anyone watching over three bodies. What made them your friends is gone. There are 1,042 men, women, and children packed into an identical number of cryotubes, all constructed by the lowest bidder, housed in compartments that were never designed to support them. They need us. They need you.”

The Chief stepped back into the hatchway, turning to look at Perez out of one eye, half his face painted into shadow by the dark of the corridor outside.

“The living need you, Corporal.”

[helix-enterprises117]

Halo Reloaded: Seeing Triple III

The Warthog's engine growled under Silver's deft control, its tires kicking up clouds of dust as it navigated the desolate landscape. The inside of the vehicle was thick with the tension of its three very similar, yet distinctly different occupants. Silver, with a driving style that could only be described as 'enthusiastically reckless', seemed to find a sort of grim amusement in the occasional jolt that threatened to unseat them. Chief, for his part, sat with the stoicism of a boulder, his gaze fixed on some distant point, lost in thoughts that likely weighed as heavily as his armor.

Ranger, unable to stand the silence any longer, swiveled his turret around, a mischievous glint in his one good eye. "Hey, fellas," he started, voice dripping with a blend of curiosity and the kind of cheerfulness that only comes from blissful ignorance of true despair. "How long have you been playing the galaxy's most reluctant heroes? Feels like we've got enough grimdark backstories to start our own band."

Chief let out a sigh, the sound somehow carrying all the weight of his years. "Feels like since the dawn of time. It's been a never-ending parade of enemies. Insurrectionists, Covenant, Flood, Prometheans... And now these Banished chumps. Honestly, it's like the universe has a personal vendetta against my downtime."

"Banished? No such thing where I came from. Back in my timeline, it was more about Spartans going rogue and interservice, political in-fighting." Silver waved a hand dismissively, as if brushing away the memories along with the dust that had settled on the dashboard.

"You boys make my timeline sound like a walk in the park. No Banished, just a bunch of Forerunner tech that doesn't play nice," Ranger chimed in, trying to lighten the mood. He paused, his expression turning thoughtful under his helmet. "Makes me wonder what I'm missing out on. Or not."

The topic of age came up as naturally as anything else could in a conversation held at gunpoint by existential dread. "So, how old are we talking here? I'm a sprightly 2530 baby, myself," Ranger offered, injecting a note of pride into his voice.

"2511," Chief responded, his voice as flat and unexciting as a history lecture.

"Same." Silver chuffed, glancing over at Chief with a look that could almost be considered camaraderie if one squinted.

Ranger nodded, a smirk playing on his lips, "Makes me the kid, huh? Guess that explains the youthful charm." He laughed, a sound that bounced around the Warthog's interior.

"Y'know, I got a girl back home. Spartan Linda. Tied the knot and everything. You guys would love her; she's a real charmer, once you get past the sniper rifle."

Chief's reaction was almost comical, had anyone been in the mood for comedy. A slight twitch, like he'd been zapped by a low-voltage current, betrayed his surprise. "Linda..." he echoed, the name carrying a weight that seemed to anchor him to the spot. The moment stretched, filled with unspoken thoughts and feelings, a saga of 'what-ifs' and 'if-onlys'.

"Got a thing for your Linda, huh?" Ranger nudged, his tone playful yet edged with understanding. "Can't say I blame you. If she's anything like my Linda, she's one in a trillion."

The conversation meandered from there, shifting to less emotionally charged topics... that's a lie, it got more emotional. Ranger glanced back at his companions, a new thread of curiosity weaving through his thoughts.

"You know, I've been thinking... It's weird how everyone in your world can just... interact with Forerunner tech. In my dimension, it's a no-go unless you've got this rare Forerunner genome thing going on. Which, luckily, I do." He tapped the side of his helmet, as if to punctuate his point.

Silver, who had been navigating a particularly treacherous patch of terrain, perked up at this. "Yeah? That's a thing for me too." He noted with a half-smirk, then, as if a thought struck him, he directed a queston to the other Johns. "You ever hear of someone named Makee in your world?"

Both Chief and Ranger shook their heads, their interest piqued. Chief’s voice was the first to break the ensuing silence. "Makee? That's not a name that's come up. Who is she?"

In the rearview mirror, Silver's reflection showed a man wrestling with how to frame his next words. "She was... unique. A human, but the only one who joined the Covenant, believed in their cause. She could interpret the words of the Forerunners, activate and use their tech... She's like me, but she used her abilities for them."

The weight of the story hung in the air, heavier than the gravity on Onyx. Ranger, always one to push forward, nudged the topic. "So, what happened to her?"

Silver's grip on the steering wheel tightened, the muscles in his jaw working as he chose his words carefully. "One of my Spartans killed her," he said, a simple statement that carried layers of unsaid emotion.

The silence that followed was telling, filled with a mix of curiosity and respect for the delicate subject. It was Ranger who broke it, his tone treading the line between sensitive and inquisitive. "You sound... kinda fond of her?"

There was a pause, long enough to be uncomfortable, before Silver finally let out a breathy chuckle, laden with a cocktail of emotions. "Yeah, well, she was under my custody, and... we ended up falling for each other. And, uh, she—We..." He stumbled over the words, a rarity for someone usually so sure of himself.

Chief, the ever-stoic warrior, found himself at a loss, his brain trying to reboot like an old, overworked computer. "You were... involved with a POW?"

Ranger’s reaction was a mixture of shock and an almost irrepressible urge to laugh, not out of mockery, but sheer disbelief at the complexity of Silver's situation. "And let me guess, there were... consequences to this?"

Silver sighed, a sound that was half resignation, half defiance. "If by 'consequences,' you mean a baby, then yeah. I'm raising our child. Her name's Angel."

The revelation hit like a gravity hammer. Chief looked as if he’d been physically struck, the concept so foreign and shocking to his disciplined mind that it nearly sent him into a state of system failure. Ranger, on the other hand, clamped a hand over his mouth, his shoulders shaking with the effort to contain his laughter, not at the situation itself, but at the sheer absurdity of life and how it seemed to throw curveballs at the most unexpected of times.

Silver glanced at both of his counterparts through the mirror, a sheepish yet defiant look in his eyes. "Yeah, I know. It's a mess. But she's the best thing that's come out of all this chaos. Angel, I mean."

The Warthog trundled on, the silence now filled with a new understanding, a recognition of the complexities and the unanticipated paths their lives had taken.

Chief, still processing, finally nodded, a gesture of acknowledgment if not full comprehension. Ranger, finding his composure, offered a supportive clap on Silver's shoulder, his laughter subsiding into a knowing smirk.

"Life, huh?" Ranger mused, the landscape around them unforgiving and barren, yet somehow less desolate with the sharing of their intertwined tales. "Doesn't get much crazier than this."

[authortobenamedlater]

GUYS

@sarnakhwritesthings @ageless-aislynn @mrtobenamedlater

Haven’t even watched it yet BRB

[mrssylargray]

[inafieldofdaisies]

Halo (2022-) | Season 2, Episodes 1 and 2, "Sanctuary" and "Sword" | Favorite scenes

[corv-idae]

Love hate relationship with the green shirt and vest combo they’ve decided to use in Halo Season 2…

Why is the Master Chief a Manager at this Cabelas

[sealkymilky]

Part 2 of the Smiling Chief.

[gustavo-pereirar]

[sonoluvr22]

The season 2 finale of Halo was everything I’ve been hoping for. I really hope we get a season 3.