Halsey was glad to be home. Don't get her wrong, an alien ringworld was something that warranted no small amount of attention, but all she wanted to do was get home and sleep.
Fortunately enough, things went back to normal quickly. Even 343 Guilty Spark had settled into the niche he had fairly nicely-a friendly rivalry with Jerrod.
An explosion, followed by furious shouting but no screams of pain, came from outside, and Halsey smiled.
Yep… things were back to normal.
"John." Cortana pestered from where she lay on the couch, one leg splayed into the floor, the other high on the backing. "John." She tossed a grape at him. "Mister 117…" She tossed another one, and John dropped what he was doing, catching the fruit in his teeth. "Ooh, ten points!"
John raised an eyebrow. "What're you doing?"
"I'm bored." She shrugged. "The problem is, after you go to a big alien space station, everything seems kind of… trite in comparison." Cortana laid back, frowning. "This must be what TV shows feel like when they jump the shark… Have we jumped the shark, John?"
John raised an eyebrow at her.
"Just trying to keep some conversation going." She shrugged, turning her head to the TV. It was playing… something to do with Discworld, she wasn't quite sure the exact nature of it though. "What are you doing?"
"…It's nothing of too much concern." John evasively replied.
"Ooh," Cortana sat up with a grin, "See, now, what's that done, is made me even more interested!" She dashed to her feet, running over. "Lemme see!"
"It's, er…" John awkwardly began, "It's art therapy, supposedly. I saw a post about it on Waypoint… Supposed to help focus the mind."
"Oh, really?" Cortana curiously inquired. "And how long have you been doing that?"
"Since we got out to this farm." John replied with a light shrug.
Her eyes flickered down at the page, and she looked back up at him. "Can I… can I see it?"
John thinned his lips, before nodding, passing it over to her.
Cortana looked at it, gasping at the work in amazement. "John, this is…"
John sighed. "Horrid. I figured as much-"
"No, no…" She shook her head. "It's good. Really good…" She looked at the picture-perfect recreation of herself, only tinted blue, smiling with knowledge and mischief behind her eyes. …that, or it was hunger. She did tend to be a bit of a glutton, but she had a high metabolism, sue her. "Just, one teensy question… Why blue?"
"Because you're on Blue Team?" He snarked in response, and Cortana rolled her eyes. "I don't know, I just… Blue is a complicated color. Sometimes it's soothing, sometimes it's cold, other times it's depressing. That's kind of the thing I'm working with this series." He shrugged. "Giving people color motifs that fit them, otherwise it'd just be portraits, and those are boring."
"Wait, 'series?'" Cortana repeated. "You mean, you've painted more?"
John nodded, standing up. He walked over to a drawer nearby. He rooted through, pushing aside objects to keep what he was looking for concealed, and he pulled out a binder. "It's not a lot, but… I like it. It's… relaxing."
He passed it over to her, and Cortana gently took it, flipping through the pages with curious reverence. Her eyes scanned through all manner of drawings-portraits, landscapes, abstractions-and her jaw slowly dropped. "John, these are… These are amazing." She looked at him, seriously. "You could get these in an art show, or something."
John tilted his head. "You really think so?"
Cortana smiled, nodding emphatically as she passed it back to him. "I know it." She took an excited breath. "There's an art gallery in New Alexandria. We could submit your works to them!"
John frowned, looking down at the folder of his drawings. "You think that's a good idea?"
"Yeah, of course!" She beamed widely. "You've got talent, John!"
John slowly nodded in contemplation, before he smiled as well. "All right."
"Yes," She pumped a fist, "Trust me, by the end of the year, everyone in the world will know your name."
"Rejected!?" Cortana hollered, scowling as she looked at the letter they'd received back from the New Alexandria Art Gallery. "That's bullshit! What the hell are they rejecting you for?"
John, who was the one actually holding the letter, shrugged. "'Dear Mister Wayne-'"
"You submitted your pieces under the name John Wayne, seriously?" Cortana demanded.
John shrugged. "John Wayne Halsey. It looks like they got the names mixed around, it's fine." He shrugged, closing up the envelope, and he smiled, tossing it away, though it was clear it didn't reach his eyes.
He'd really been hoping to get his work accepted.
"John, don't…" Cortana muttered, pulling him into a hug. "I'm sorry."
"It is what it is." He replied, turning away. "…I'm going to go lay down for a while, I guess." He walked away, leaving Cortana standing in sadness…
…and with bubbling rage.
Fred sat in a chair, reading through an auto magazine, as Linda and Kelly played chess across the way, and Sam tossed a rubber ball up and down.
Cortana came bursting in. "Guys, I need help."
"Ooh, is it another 'save my date' plan!" Sam sat up with a grin. "I'm always down for those."
"Well, yes, but-" Cortana blushed, licking her lips. "Not exactly."
Kelly raised an eyebrow as she disinterestedly moved a pawn forward, and Linda cursed, realizing that just cost her yet another of her own pieces. "With what?"
"How would you guys like to do a bit of vandalism on behalf of John?" Cortana inquired.
Fred threw the magazine down with a wicked grin. "You had me at vandalism."
Night fell on the town of New Alexandria as four figures dressed in identical clothing, all wearing masks, skulked silently through the streets, staying out of view of the cameras blanketing the streets in their coverage.
The four came up on a large park, moving slowly toward the building at the back of it. Coming up to the doors, the leader took a UNSC spoofer out of his pocket, and attached it to the door, with a heavy metallic clang as the magnets took hold.
"Fred!" Kelly hissed.
"Sorry!" He hissed back just as quietly. "It's magnets, what do you want me to do?" He shook his head, tapping the device. Fred looked through the transparent door windows, at the blinking lights for the laser tripwires for the armed security system. They flickered for a moment, before the door locks disengaged, and Fred pulled it open. "Okay, as far as the security system's concerned, nothing's out of the ordinary. Guards don't have patrols in here, and the security room is out back in the loading docks, meaning…"
Sam took some buckets of paint, paintbrushes, and markers, setting them down on the floor. "Showtime."
"Ah," Kelly held up a finger as she produced a portable speaker, and hit the play button, "For… 'stimulating creativity.'"
Linda chuckled, brandishing a brush in her hands. "Let's do some updating, shall we?" She was first to dance across the floor first, to a still life image of a building. Incensed at the fact that such a… low-effort work would be proudly displayed instead of John's, she tossed away whatever qualms she might've had, before setting to work.
Linda's brush slid smoothly across the painted canvas, the most hideous shade of neon mountain dew green seeping off the follicles into the surface, staining it forever. With quick, sweeping motions, Linda stepped back, taking a look at her handiwork.
Now, there was an image of a cartoonish figure with an oversized nose poking his head up, the text next to him proudly reading 'Kilroy was here.'
Sam's sense of humor was much less refined, and he decided to resort to a classic way of defacing otherwise pretty scenes.
Fred looked over, laughing. "It's almost as big as mine, that!"
"You're a damn liar, Fredric!" Kelly huffed.
"Oh, and like you would know!" Fred huffed, moving on to his work. He found a small sculpture of a woman, and without preamble, popped the top of the bucket of paint off, and dumped it on the head of the thing, splattering the rest on a painting nearby.
Lastly, Kelly stepped back from the comical, twirling mustaches she'd drawn on a group portrait, and smiled.
"Man, I love the arts." She remarked.
John heard a knock at the door, and he got up, going to answer it. He pulled it open, to find Cortana standing on the other side.
"John," She softly addressed, "How're you feeling?"
"Normal." John shrugged, and in response, Cortana's gaze softened even more. "Why?"
"There's something I want to show you." She took his hand gently, leading him through the hallways of the main house, into the dining area.
John stopped, as he saw the rest of the Spartans, all of them, plus Halsey, Keyes, and their latest addition gazing upon drawings, paintings, and simple sketches. All of it his work.
Funnily enough, they also seemed to be enjoying looking at them.
"Oh, my, such a curious stasis cube!" Spark remarked, looking at a landscape painting curiously. "Euclidian non-Euclidian art! What a fascinating concept, I'll have to make a note of it…"
Cortana stood by, looking with a smile as John watched the others viewing his art, before suddenly, someone noticed they were there.
"John," Halsey addressed, gesturing at the art, "Did you make these?"
"Yes, ma'am." He nodded.
Halsey hummed, looking back to them. She nodded, as a small smile split her features, and she looked back to John. "They're very nice. I'm quite proud of you."
John blinked, his jaw quietly unhinging and snapping shut, as the praise hit home.
"Even better news," Cortana offered him a letter, "Well, maybe not all good, but the art gallery's had a sudden string of vandalism. They need new works to fill in the vacancies. You want to maybe give it a retry?"
John thinned his lips, thinking. "Maybe… Later." He shrugged, looking to her. "The only people who I really care about seeing all this are already here."
"D'aww…" Cortana cooed, hugging him. "You're just saying that to make me feel better about getting your hopes up."
John quietly chuckled. "Probably. Is it working?"
"Yep!"