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TITLE! . . . Flesh and Blood * UNIVERSE! . . . The Walking Dead LOVE INTEREST! . . . Daryl Dixon FACE CLAIM! . . . Dichen Lachman OC NAME! . . . Hanit Siyanova TIME FRAME! . . . Season 1 ─ Season 8 ** STATUS! . . . Available
* title can be changed
** time frame can be extended to season 11
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One week after her face is printed on the front cover of VOGUE magazine, Hanit Siyanova's short career in modeling ends in the grizzliest way imaginable; when she drives the heel of her favorite Louboutins through the face of the undead editor-in-chief. She wiped his blood on her torn skirts so she could hold onto the steering wheel of his brand-new BMW, blinked past hot tears as she witnessed the bombs drop on Atlanta through her rearview mirror. Two months later and Hanit still has moments when all her thoughts are dark: What if life will never be the same again? What if this is the end of humanity? What if I'm doomed to be covered in blood until the day I die?
Hanit has been so restless that her group has taken notice. Lori Grimes—the woman who led her from the overcrowded highway to their camp at an abandoned quarry—assures Hanit that everyone feels the same way. "We all saw our city burn," Lori had told her. "We're just anxious, expecting something worse to happen. But it won't. Because we're safe this far from the city."
Lori's words do nothing to ease Hanit's worries. Often, she remembers the news broadcasts that replayed on every TV for hours before the virus hit Atlanta, showing cities laid to ruin, people dying on the streets, the dead rising to eat the living. A part of her, the part she buries deep, knows that this is it. This is life, forever and always. I will die blood-stained.
Coming to terms with such a thing terrifies her, though. So Hanit pushes away the thoughts, focuses on helping her group every second of her waking days so she doesn't have to think. She chops wood. She sews patches on Shane Walsh's jeans. She mends the leaks in the Peletier's tent. Day by day, she occupies herself with task after task, trying to ignore the hopelessness constantly grating against her spirit.
