This is my Halo fic. HAPPY BUNGIE DAY! So, this story is about my amazingly cool (and rather insane) OC Spartan II (Spartan 2 for those of you who can't read roman numerals). It takes place around Halo 2, probably. Chances are you won't see Master Chief and the gang all that much, but you never know. You might see the Arbiter, because he is REALLY REALLY COOL! (he's one of my favorite characters!) I would also love your reviews, PMs, etc. For every review you give, a random fan fiction writer gets really happy. Don't you want that to happen? Also, this story is 100% not a romance story. Just no. N-O spells NOOOO. Or no. My OC's too cool for that. This story is pure awesome. I hope. And now, because I can't think of anything else to say, a disclaimer.

DISCLAIMER! I don't own the Arbiter, or Master Chief, or Cortana, or a single grunt. *sigh* If only. If only. BUT I do own my OC and this plot line, along with Clarence. (Just you wait and see…)

So. Are you ready for a Halo fic? (cue audience: YEAH! Clapping and cheering, etc.)

Chapter 1: Gunfire in the City

FELIX POV:

When I first heard a gun fire, I was the only one not on the ground. I don't mean that my 8th grade classmates were dead. However, when the sound pierced the silent spring air of New Dublin (the city I lived in, located on the remains of old Ireland), the children were huddled on the ground in an instant, clutching their ears and screaming bloody murder. While them, and even the teacher, were down there, I stood, completely undisturbed by the noises. I stared at where they had come from, and saw an all to familiar face. My mother.

My father was deployed to Reach. When this news got to my mother, she started to act strangely. She would sneak away at night, or cry for hours on end, and now this. She was shooting a silenced magnum on the streets of New Dublin, at nothing in particular. This didn't scare me, it just broke my heart. Mother had always been unstable, but I didn't think she'd go this far.

"GET DOWN!" the teacher shrieked at me. I ignored her, and walked to the window. We were on the first floor. I jumped through the window, and walked calmly through the deserted play ground. Another gunshot.

"Mother!" I called into the fading light.

"Aria?" she called.

"Yes mom, it's me. Put down the gun! Father wouldn't want this if he could see you! Father wouldn't want this if he could see you!" I repeated. I heard the sound of metal hitting the floor. And my mother crying.

My mother was brought to the insane asylum. They kept her there for a long time. Eventually, my mother escaped the asylum, I have no idea what happened to her afterward. I was in 9th grade at the time, and I had stopped attending school altogether. Without a home and unwilling to report myself to the orphanage, I went to the only place I knew: the deserted asylum. I couldn't report myself to the orphanage anyways. For all I knew, my father was still alive. But he was far away, and his house had been taken. The asylum had been abandoned, so it was an easy place for me to go. On occasion I stole food, sometimes I would even beg. If I was lucky and got some money, I could buy food. This was rare though. In the asylum, I led a lonely, but somehow satisfactory, life. I never had to bother with children my age, or anything of the like. Though I was still the same Aria O'Malley that had stood there in the classroom a little while ago, I changed.

I was lying on a stained bed in one of the asylum rooms. I was remembering mother and father. I remembered a time just before my father was deployed to Reach. He was talking to me.

"My little Felix," he said. He always loved to call my Felix. "If you want to really live, you have to be strong. You have to fight for what is important, and see what others cannot. If your little green eyes can see where you are heading, you will be able to prepare yourself, and be strong. So be strong, Aria, Felix, be strong." He walked away, onto the transport vessel. He was gone from my life from then on.

It then occurred to me that I am not being strong. I am hiding in an asylum, little Aria, hiding from the world. If I want to be strong, I cannot be just Aria. It was that night that I decided that I was not Aria O'Malley. I was Felix O'Malley. I was strong. Nobody could stop me.

Someone pushed me. "Hey, kid. I want your food," some boy, no older than I was, grumbled. I was an 11th grader, tough and often starving, still living in the asylum. I hadn't heard anything about father on Reach (A/N: No it's not dead yet), and wondered if he'd ever come back. I clutched the loaf of bread to my chest, and said, "No. It's mine, I bought it with my own money." I hunched down and tried to leave without making a scene.

"Not so fast!" I felt a hand on my shoulder, trying to pull me back and take my food. I hadn't come into contact with a human being in ages, and it triggered something in me. I turned and swung a punch so fast he had not time to react. The boy began to drop to his knees, clutching his cheek. I should've let him go, and saved myself the trouble, but I was mad. Really mad. Before I knew what I was doing, I kicked his chin while he was falling, sending him sprawling back into his friends. I glared daggers at them, a violent gleam in my eyes. With decidedly inhuman strength, I picked him up by his collar, and tossed him across the street. He slammed into a building, breaking the wall. Blood trickled out of the back of his head. Anger pulsing through my veins, without thinking, I ran through the streets. I was running so quickly. Too quickly. Unnaturally quickly. But I could hardly tell, I could hardly think!

When I reached the asylum, I wasn't even tired. It was strange indeed. I slumped against a wall, staring out at New Dublin. My flame-red hair fell in curls around my waist. I had never bothered to cut it. I suppose you could say it perfectly accentuated my eyes, which were a bright teal blue. I suppose you could say I looked stunningly beautiful in the light filtering through the window. I suppose you could say that it all made my pale skin amazing, and that I looked beautiful. But you would be stupidly wrong. Completely, stupidly, wrong. My hair might have been flame-red, but it was matted and sticking to my face. My eyes were closed at the time, so so much for the great eyes. The light was sickly and made me look even more pale. And my pale skin was covered with bruises and dirt. I'm not pretty.

"Let's face it, I'm not. But hey, I don't really care. I don't care, because I'm strong as h*ll and nobody's going to mess with me. I don't have to be pretty. I have to be strong… Felix. And that I sure am."

"Yes you are indeed. Pleasure to meet you, I'm Dr. Brian Davison."

HAPPY BUNGIE DAY AGAIN! I've had this thing kicking around partly written for AGES. But now, I'm finally putting it up in honor of everybody's favorite… BUNGIE DAY! Yes, as you can see, I loooooooooooove Bungie Day. It's a happy time of day, especially since Rooster Teeth's Red Vs. Blue put out a PSA with Halo Reach JUST FOR TODAY! So I'm following suite, Rooster Teeth (especially YOU, Caboose!) and finishing my story and putting it up. And it's great. I just finished watching the Blood Gulch Chronicles before dinner, so whoop-de-doo for me! I can't wait to start Reconstruction! Sorry, I don't think you want to hear about my personal RVB life. I think you want to review my story! ^.- PLEEEEEEEEEASE! -.^

P.S. If you haven't seen Red Vs. Blue yet, go visit it right now, because it is amazing. Albeit, full of swear-words!

P.P.S. I'll put up chapter 2 ASAP, but no promises as to when.

P.P.P.S. I'm going to go start chapter 2 now!

P.P.P.P.S. If you got my RVB reference, review and guess what it is… I know what it is!