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MYTHRADEVI AKKINENI is here. Turns out the 30 year-old used to be a hotel concierge, but now they contribute as a SERVER. Better watch it — they’re known to be both clear-headed and blunt. They’ve been around for two weeks, but we’ll keep an eye on them just in case. They remind me of the love of family but not tradition, scalding black coffee, rubbing one's temples in frustration anyway.

STATS

Name: Mythradevi Akkineni Nicknames: Myth, Devi Birth Date: April 1st Age: 30 Height: 5'6" Weight: 132 lbs. Gender/Pronouns: demi woman | she & they Romantic/Sexual Orientation: heterosexual | heteroromantic Hair Color: Black Eye Color: Brown Marital Status: Single (???)

BACKGROUND

The daughter of second-generation immigrants, Mythradevi grew up in a rather traditional Indian household in Avondale, Arizona. Though she remembers a home filled with love, they also remember a home crushed with impossible expectations. Days and nights were spent in the living room, studying where her parents could visibly see; their way of ensuring that she actually committed to her studies.

The importance of a good match as well as good schooling were the penultimate life lessons of the Akkineni household, lessons and virtues that Myth felt their elder brothers seemed especially exempt from. While the older pair were free to spend their days as they wished, she was resigned to a life of studies; eventually having marriage matches thrown into the mix as well once they turned 18.

When she turned 19, however, Myth made a deal with her parents. All talk of marriage and proposals would cease while they went to college and looked for employment. If she was not engaged to nor wed to a suitable man by the age of 25, then their parents had full permission to find a husband for her with no fight or input. Their father even went so far as to put it in writing as an informal agreement - leverage against their own daughter lest she forget.

Moving into her college campus dorm to study hospitality, it didn't take long for them to come out of their shell in some of the best and worst ways. Though they managed to maintain passing grades in their classes, gone was the lonely Indian girl who was only ever devoted to her studies. Even when her parents screamed threats down the phone, it wasn't enough to kowtow the wild woman that Myth was becoming. It wasn't until the passing of their grandparents and obtaining their first job at some middling hotel that she finally calmed down.

Time passed too quickly, and by the time Myth was 25, she hadn't even had a serious boyfriend. Much as she chafed at being forced back into the world of arranged marriages and honoring tradition, they remained true to their word. They didn't fight with their parents as proposal after proposal was shoved in her face in neat manila folders. Picking one potential groom almost blindly, it took very little time to arrange a meeting.

The day the meeting was meant to take place was the day of the outbreak. Myth and her parents had just arrived in Phoenix when a random person out in the middle of the highway cause their father to almost crash. This random person was eventually revealed to be a walker, one that caused Myth to lose her father in the worst way. She and their mother managed to escape, trying to eke out what meager living they could.

They survived, by some stroke of luck, drifting from one group to another before falling in with the new group. Life has been hard for the past five years, but they're hopeful about being allowed into the prison, even with current events. It would be nice to go from surviving to living.

MISC

Self paras expanding on Mythradevi's character will be linked here as they're posted.

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Tags - MYTHRADEVI AKKINENI

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WHQ TASK 01 - A PIVOTAL MOMENT

What does it mean to go from surviving to living? For Shenandoah, the moment she truly stopped surviving and started living was such an insignificant moment in any real retrospect. It started with her laying in bed, in the early morning hours. Even at twilight, she could feel the Arizona heat starting to seep in. And yet, she hadn't been able to find it in her to kick off the covers and depart her warm bed. She'd asked James to get coffee going, but there'd been no response.

Rolling over in bed, she'd opened her eyes, expecting the four walls of her Phoenix condo, only to be met with concrete. She'd only been part of the prison group for a week at that point, and hadn't finished decorating her cell. She cried, that morning; the first time she had cried since the outbreak began. She couldn't remember if she'd even gotten anything done that day, besides crying two years worth of unshed tears. It was then that she really knew that she wasn't surviving anymore. It's one of her fonder memories since joining the prison.

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There's a sigh of relief that comes unintentionally from Shan's lips. She'd been starting to give up any hope of something new popping up. After five years, there's no telling what state any remaining, unscavenged books could be found in. Not to mention how dangerous the city could be, especially the deeper in one went. "That's a fucking relief, that is." She can't help but comb over the leaning stacks, wondering if maybe her untrained eye could find the newest addition within the chaos. "There's this technique that a lot of designers used for last minute stitching in case a model tore their outfit before they were meant to walk the runway." She flicks her wrist in a pale imitation, green eyes landing back on Jasper's searching form. "I'm wanting to cut down on time so it ain't taking me so long to fix something, y'know?"

it was easier, keeping to himself in a far-off corner of the prison, away from the grunts and knives whistling through the air, hidden from those out on patrol. it was an unspoken agreement, a vow that those brave enough to search for supplies would bring back books if they found them. most were moth-eaten, sun-bleached, lost to the elements, but the odd title could be pressed seamlessly into the shelves and noted on his many lists. hazel eyes reviewed the scrawl. "oh, sewing! yes! it was brought in with the food run just a few days ago. it'll be here somewhere..." beneath the mass-market paperbacks or torn versions of the classics, those with pages missing or covers stuck together with sellotape. he had always dreamt of working in a bookstore—he supposed this was the next best thing. "are you working on anything specific? you'll have to show me next time."

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Shenandoah had to snort at that, shaking her head as she took another drag. "Missing the wine and meringue music." She looked off into the middle distance, letting the nostalgia hit her for a moment before returning her gaze to Matevos. "Unintentionally ahead of the curb. Very fashion forward." There's a tinge of bitterness to her words, a hardness that she doesn't care for at the moment. She rolls her eyes, half tempted to shove him again before conceding. "Yes, yes, fine. Still no date. I can't even remember the last time I went on a date. Hell, I don't know if I'd even agree to one if anyone asked."

Matevos grinned, allowing the shove, almost moving into it and then shrugging. “Yeah, you’re right, smart. I can never turn down getting stuff for other people, I’m like a walking bodega.” He licked his lips abstend-mindedly and gazed out over the field. Then returned looking at her with a frown. “Hmmm, I can’t say my fashion sense has changed much, I think I always dressed in post-apocalypse chic,” he joked. He extended his long legs and turned back to face Shan, letting the mischievous grin take over again. “Because I am great to talk to, I’m an amazing listener, and I get you smokes.” 

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Carla Gugino for Esquire | December 2010 📸 John Russo

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She raised a brow when he made himself comfortable sitting next to her, but didn't outwardly protest. She'd long since learned to tolerate Daniel's shenanigans, chalking it up to youth and an error in the cat distribution system. "Yeah, though that was the whole point. Sexy meets classy. Pretty sure it was a lingerie shoot." She could be wrong. She'd done quite a few shoots where the entire theme was sexy meets classy, so she could be entirely wrong. She has to shake her head in amusement when he cuts off his own train of thought, letting the personified cat rant away as she takes another drag. "There was only a lack of clothes on the statues and the paintings." Of that, she was sure. Brows furrow over green eyes as she ponders at his inquiry. It was hard for Shan to say if she truly missed her modeling days. "I think I miss the people the most. Though some were more suspect than others." And likely all dead, like she should have been. "I'm pretty sure the council would shoot down that idea. They're some dumb, not plumb dumb."

He took the liberty of sitting next to Shan, deciding that he'd prefer her company to just wandering around outside— or, god forbid, talking to someone new and having to make awkward small talk; he didn't have the patience for it right now. "Were they? I thought the Renaissance was more..." Daniel trailed off as he thought about it, then shook his head. "Nevermind. I just remembered how much of a lack of clothes there was, like the marble statues and all that." Hopefully he was getting his dates right, because he was no art major. He looked to Shenandoah and then out at the others enjoying the sun before giving a lazy stretch and leaning back against the bleacher behind him. "You ever miss your model days? I'm sure we can find someone with a camera 'round here. Maybe we could print flyers advertising the prison that'll have your face on them. Long live the glory days, yeah?"

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Shenandoah typically preferred to smoke outside the prison, but still behind the walls - a way to remind herself of her new reality if her somewhat refurbished cell didn't do the trick. Today, however, she wanted to watch the sunrise. So, she grabbed her pack of cigarettes and box of matches and made her way up; a phantom of high fashion in her nightgown, matching robe, and a somehow still pristine pair of slippers. She didn't think she'd run into Hyunwoo as she slowly opened the rooftop access, freezing for a moment before she noted the cigarette being swiftly doused.

"Hey, yourself." She smiles, if cautiously. She'd known the former actor before the outbreak, if only in passing. But that was years ago, now, and the world had changed. Pulling out a cigarette of her own, she places it between her lips, lights a match, and lights up, taking a drag before answering, "No, the rooftop isn't off-limits. It's where a lot of us smokers go. I usually prefer to light up down in the fields, but the roof has the best view of the sunrise."

@whqstarters for: open! where: prison rooftop

Hyunwoo wasn't sure if he was technically allowed up here, but there wasn't exactly a padlock on the door, so he decided to take his chances. Smoking was a habit he wasn't very proud of, and the urge only struck whenever he was incredibly stressed— like now. He flicked the lighter a few times before the flame finally caught and then inhaled the stale nicotine, blowing out a little while later and closing his eyes. The days in Phoenix were mild right now thanks to winter, but the mornings were still cold enough to chill one's bones as the remnants of nighttime freeze warnings ebbed away into yellowing skies. He didn't mind the cold, though. In fact he planned to stay outside for at least an hour when he heard the door to the rooftop access creak and quickly put out his cigarette as if he'd been caught doing something wrong.

"... Hey—" he finally said after a moment, turning his head to see who it was. "I didn't think anyone else would be up this early. This place isn't off-limits, right?"

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The Pretty Reckless- Follow Me Down

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She has to laugh, almost throwing her head back as she puts the spare cigarette away. "Cause I know you'll get them for me." She reaches out to lightly shove Matevos, before shaking her head at his question. "Sometimes it's nice to dress in normal clothes and pretend the world didn't fall apart." She has to ignore the lump in her throat that sinks to the pit of her stomach at the mention of a date. It was perfectly possible that someone might; she'd taken off her wedding band and buried it out in the Arizona desert three years ago. "No, no date. And besides, even if there was someone here that wanted to take me on a date, what makes you think I'd tell you?"

Matevos chuckled. “Why are you always trying to make me get you cigarettes?” He asked, grinning as he sat down beside her. Smoking had never been one of his vices, he had enough with his coffee addiction. Which was already hard to deal with on most days, the coffee running out - though he had some great experiments running. “I feel like this will be some running joke later on, everyone will think I smoke like a chimney,” he joked. “Why are you all dressed up? Do you have a date today? Any of the new people ask you on a date?” 

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Shenandoah doesn't even disguise her eye roll once she realizes that it's Daniel approaching, already putting the cigarette back in its pack as she takes another drag. It was a horrible habit, and not a sustainable one at that. She'd been working on cutting back, to prepare should the day ever come that there were no more packs to scavenge. It wasn't like they could just grow tobacco, either, since most tobacco farms were all located on the east coast. "You and I have very different definitions of normal." Still, she smiled, flicking excess off her cigarette and letting out a sigh. "I wouldn't know about that. I did a Renaissance themed shoot once, but the outfits were a lot more revealing." And she dreaded the day the scavengers came back with that magazine.

Daniel didn't really do outside, but sometimes, human nature won over his stubbornness and he found himself wandering out to get some air despite himself. No one could last days upon days trapped inside, after all. Even the prisoners of before got an hour of rec time a day— or so he heard from the movies, since he'd never been to the big house himself before now. "I don't need one, thanks. I just wanted to say that you looked so... normal." Daniel crinkled his nose as if it was a bad thing, though he was joking and was sure Shan would be able to pick up on it by now. Though he couldn't talk much, wearing the same plain t-shirts and jeans that stocked his small closet with little to no fashion sense. He dressed the same before and after the end, go figure. "It's like a Renaissance painting or something."

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The barest hint of a smile flitted across her lips as Shenandoah got to work, threading the needle and tying a small knot to keep it in place as she sewed. There weren't a whole lot of people that could talk back to Leon, his very personality made it a task to even get on good terms. But his bark had always been worse than his bite, at least in her opinion. "If you'd gotten off your ass and brought it to me sooner, could have made it ten." She's teasing, of course; it likely still would have been five. She has to stop what she's doing just to look over at him with an incredulous expression. "Tug of war as an Olympic sport? And it took them twenty years to realize how dumb of a concept that is?" At the mention of curling, she snorts, returning to her sewing. "My husband's grandfather used to do professional curling before he settled down. Was the shuffleboard champ in the retirement home before he passed."

usually leon would be defensive, insisting he didn't need to take a chill pill of all things, but this was shan and he'd known her long enough by now to not take offense. "right." she probably had a point anyway. he put his hands in his sweater pockets and watched as the flannel was set down on the table before his eyes found her face once more. "five more years sounds like a miracle to me," he chuckled slightly. "thanks. and least favorite?" he had to think about that one. there were so many fun facts it was hard to pinpoint one that he didn't like or that had no real contribution to history as a whole. "hm.. tug of war used to be an olympic sport in the nineteen hundreds. only lasted twenty years. a student told me that one and i can't help but think of how stupid everyone might've looked." he briefly hoped that student was okay though, wherever they were. "then again i don't think anyone can look stupider than curling, so maybe i should give 'em some grace."

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STARTER TYPE: Open FEATURING: Shenandoah & OPEN

Vitamin C is important. James's words rung through her head like a bell as Shenandoah stepped out into the rec yard. The ground itself had been turned into fields for crops, and was mostly occupied by the gardeners. But there were still other members of the group lounging in the Arizona sun, training, or fighting to keep the basketballs inflated. She knew that she likely looked quite the sight, with her sundress, matching hat, and sandals, but sometimes she liked to feel like the world hadn't fallen apart. She took a seat on bleachers, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and a halfway decent box of matches before lighting one. Spotting a figure making their way over, she takes a drag, already pulling another cigarette out of the pack. "If you're about to ask to bum a smoke, just know that I expect two from the next pack you get."

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There was a precise reason why Shenandoah had placed her little workspace so near the library. Not only was it a quieter part of the prison, it meant shorter trips on the off chance that the scavengers found some books on sewing techniques. Thus far, there were only three books on sewing, one of which she'd brought with her when she joined the prison group. Still, she held up a hand to wave to Jasper as she combed through the leaning towers of books. "Just seeing if there were any more books on sewing techniques brought in, Jasper." There was a particular technique that the designers had used during shows on the off-chance a model stepped the wrong way and tore their outfit, one she was hoping to replicate to cut down on time. "If you wanna help, feel free. You'd know these leaning towers better than me."

       ↳       the library    :      jasper   &   open .

he would say it was brutalist, the state library with books lining the walls, propped up on an old bureau, stacked in wobbly towers that threatened to crush him beneath. it was the best the survivors could salvage, a construction that was tucked away from the mania of combat training or food service, a calmer corner of the penitentiary. prisoners, if they had been well behaved, could have wasted their days learning of seed distribution and weather patterns. now, it was a capsule, and he was the sworn protector. jasper finch wasn't made for a world like this. his heart was soft, pink-edged, squishy. perhaps he should have stayed in manchester after all. "was there anything specific you were looking for? of course, we don't have everything..." some titles had perished to damp, to the lack of late fee incurrence. "... but i can help. see if there's anything similar."

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"That depends on its current state." Shenandoah was a bit surprised to see Leon strolling into her workspace with his flannel in hand. He didn't often stop by for a patch job, and the flannel she now looked over was practically permanently attached to him. Her lips quirked down as she looked over the red fabric and the practically a million little holes that ran through it. "It's getting threadbare, especially along the cuffs..." Even as she spoke, she was pulling out her sewing kit and the appropriate thread to match. His continued fussing earned an eye-roll from her, and she looked up at him with a raised brow. "Firstly, Leon, take a chill pill." Turning her focus back to the shirt, she spreads it out on her makeshift sewing table, pinpointing the worst holes to start with. "Give me about forty-five minutes, maybe an hour. It won't be a miracle but you'll get five more years out of it. And I know what you mean. You used to be a history teacher, right? What's your least favorite historical fact?"

@almxstheavcn where: shan's workspace

"so, you think there's any savin' it?" leon didn't trust many people with his stuff, especially not what he considered to be his lucky flannel; it has been with him since the beginning of the apocalypse and seen him through the worst of the worst when he barely managed to survive. he handed over the red swatch of plaid and watched worriedly when she took it. "could use a couple patches, but i'm sure it's okay... right?" it was one thing for him to be high strung, but another for him to be fussy as he was now. he just didn't want to hear that his favorite piece of clothing was scrap fabric. it'd really put a damper on his day. "i'll trade you just about anything if you can save it. not anything-anything, but, you know."

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Ai Tominaga @ Valentino | Spring/Summer 2004

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SHENANDOAH BRIGGS is here. Turns out the 48 year-old used to be a model, but now they contribute as a SEAMSTRESS. Better watch it — they’re known to be both elegant and prim. They’ve been around for three years, but we’ll keep an eye on them just in case. They remind me of high fashion ripped to shreds, glass crunching beneath stiletto heels, droplets of blood on a marble floor anyway.

STATS

Name: Shenandoah Briggs nee Bohannon Nicknames: Shan, Doe Birth Date: May 11 Age: 48 Height: 5'9" Weight: 182 lbs Gender/Pronouns: cis woman | she&her Romantic/Sexual Orientation: demisexual | biromantic Hair Color: brown Eye Color: green Marital Status: Widow

BACKGROUND

Shenandoah Briggs grew up in a dying town in the Appalachian mountains as Shenandoah Bohannon. All her life, her one goal was to break into the fashion industry, and make enough money to get as many family members out of that dying town as possible. A goal that she fought to achieve upon graduating from high school.

Attending Barbizon School of Modeling & Acting, Shenandoah near ground herself to nothing in order to both survive her rigorous schedule but also pay for her own tuition. She connected with quite a few talent scouts and agencies during her time at Barbizon, and landed her first gig two months after graduating.

Her star power increased as time went on, as she finally began to obtain her goal of getting her family out of her dying hometown. It was at one of the many shows she was working that she initially met her future husband, James, who had been working security. What started as friendship slowly bloomed into more, with the two marrying and buying residences in multiple states.

They were in Phoenix for one of Shenandoah's gigs when the outbreak swept through. James died that very same day, and Shenandoah was lucky enough to survive the encounter that claimed his life. For two years, she fought and survived, at some point joining a small group of survivors. Only a few stragglers, herself included, were alive when they found the prison.

Though her skills weren't as honed as a professional, Shenandoah elected to contribute to the group as a seamstress. Her main point in choosing that was that it would be more sustainable to the group to try and preserve the clothing they had, rather than have the scavengers constantly hunting for more. It's been a role that she's somewhat proud to have.

MISC

A Pivotal Moment - WHQ Task 01 | Self Para