Hallia Yellir

Pulling her head from Engineering, Lieutenant Hallia Yellir of the Artemis-A enters in a lavendrous gown to match her hair. A tasteful and poofy ballgown with large fluffy sleeves sitting at her shoulders, made by the artistic hands of a Cardassian by the name of Natima Heyic. Heyic's brand focuses on deep neutrals, richly coloured patterns and heavily textured fabrics, yet, she insisted on the opposite for this client in particular. Whilst significantly less simple than previous ceremonies, the volume of her skirt, sleeves and petticoats make even simple steps look like a gliding shape. Grinning with glee, Hallia Yellir does her best to maintain a big smile, embodying the fantasy of royalty, even if only for an evening.

This whole exchange had me wheezing

Hallia Yellir checking in! "Metang use hyper spanner! Wait... that's not right"

Lt. Hallia Yellir, Chief Engineer of the Artemis-A. Sporting a stunning mint green gown, embellished with silver rhinestones and sequins. Made by her favourite designer - The Industrial Replicator on Deck 16 😌

It seems like yesterday I walked into the biology class late to see my lab partner dissecting a fly. I told them "I think your fly is open"

Aine would be very proud 😌

Congratulations to everyone, it was so amazing to see so many amazing people I've written with past and present be praised and recognized for their amazing work. 💖🙌

A garment of old Earth origin, Hallia was somewhat giddy to show off something that had been custom made just for an occasion like this. From an old friend who owed the Yelikan a favour, Moss Zoras, owner of the Bolian owned brand, Spill the Jeans. Despite them specializing in denim and setting a new wave of trends for Bolarus, she knew out of anyone, they would know how to pull off a particularly ancient garment such as this. A flowy gown, made from a delustered satin from earth and a sequin covered, tulle overlay. Spun from threads of silk from her home planet, she was excited to be showing off the craftsmanship of Yelik. From head to toe she was entirely decked out. Not to mention, the reds and pinks really seemed to compliment her skin and eyes, allowing the small pops of green to really catch the gaze of those she walked past.

She could feel them — the alien thoughts worming their way into her mind. Every passing second felt like an eternity whizzing by, and gradually, she could feel her sense of self drifting. Being torn apart and worn down into nothing but concepts and ideas, and then eventually it was like there was little more than a vacuum to fill the space. An image flashed and then vanished from sight. It was checkered flannel. She could feel it in her hand, the soft fibres brushing and then gliding against her skin. The gentle weave massaged the gaps between her fingers as she could feel her hand balling up the fabric. But everything else felt numb. The touch was so familiar to her, and her mind gravitated towards it. Until a muddy image filled her vision. He was staring back at her. She recognized that form, pale skin, a long neck, but everything else seemed… strangely out of focus, but his mouth was moving, he was wearing that same checkered flannel. Ragged and torn, holes and missing buttons ran across the garment. Red and black tones overlapped and behind him, everything else melted together. Colours, images and sounds all bled into one another, ever so slowly forming the whole picture. Neon lights contrasted the dim backdrops, empty tables scattered around the pair as some kind of music seemed to practically suffocate the two. The bass thrummed deeply into the woman’s chest as if it were thunder and her eyes darted around the seemingly empty room just to make sense of it all. ‘This wasn’t where I was a second ago…’ She watched as he mouthed the word “Mirrin” repeatedly. Even the woman’s own voice seemed alien to her. But that wasn’t simply a word, the meaning it carried, the ease of which she resonated with the phrase seemed almost otherworldly. ‘Is that my name?’ But everything about this memory seemed so painfully familiar, as Mirrin read the man’s lips. It was like she could understand everything that was being said. But there was an itching feeling— that she knew this wasn’t real. And there it was— that influence Mirrin could feel, taking root deeply into this thought, this moment and these feelings. There was a deep discomfort, like ice-cold water dripping down your shirt. The image began to shift and distort, blurs and blank spots formed like little tears and imperfections in the image. Colours began to seep out of the world, and the echoes of the heavy bass grew softer and softer until there was nothing left. Suddenly, it all went dark— there was nothing but a void, nothing more than an absolute vacuum. Mirrin’s eyes cracked open, wincing at the artificial light filling this chamber made from stone. A hand pulled away from her face, she felt a release of pressure most notably around her nose and temple. A form with pointed ears and a slightly unkempt bowl cut unveiled itself as her eyes adjusted to the sudden intense lighting. The floor beneath her suddenly felt solid, and cold sensations on her bare legs, mixed with the warmth of heavy cloth was relieving. “Are you all right?” The man spoke. His voice was monotonous The wave of exhaustion washed over Mirrin and her eyelids grew heavier and heavier. She didn't know where she was or who was in front of her. Words passed in one ear and out the other, nothing seemed to make sense.

Ok, but hear me out-- is it bad that I could see our crew participating in a prison break in a future mission???

Is it bad the first thing that came into my head was an aggravatingly bright neon lime green?

I'm surprised we didn't ask for more counsellors aboard after the crew was put in a death loop over the course of several hours 😬

Ship went boom, BUT, kudos to @Genkos Adea for giving us not the blaze of glory we deserved, but the one we absolutely needed 😌✨

Oh, I just want you to come with me We on another mentality Ain't got no tears left to cry So I'm pickin' it up, pickin' it up I'm lovin', I'm livin', I'm pickin' it up - No Tears Left To Cry -- Ariana Grande -- (2018)

Thank you!! Y'all are so sweet, it was GREAT fun to write, and @LtJG Aine Olive Sherlock is an amazing scene partner to work with!