( aria shahghasemi, cis male, he/him ) isn’t that TAHER EFTEKHARI? truthfully, i’m surprised they’ve last this long considering they’re FACETIOUS, but i suppose them being GREGARIOUS evens it out. is that a fire axe they’re carrying ? i heard the twenty five year old is laying low as a trader for the library, while the apocalypse passes.
hellooo! my name is velouria (28, she/her, est) and this is your resident bob dylan stan and full time pocket prince, taher. he’s a trader and very talkative so i hope we’ll all have a bit of fun with him. im me on here or discord if you’d like to plot <3
content warnings: mentions of islamophobia and a (very) brief mention of 9/11, genetic disease/spinocerebellar ataxia, euthanasia/right-to-die
taher doesn’t remember much about his childhood in iran, but the memories he does have don’t resemble anything you’d hear on the news today (or rather, pre-apocalypse). he remembers that when they were living in their home country, the eftekharis were a happy and loving family, with no plans to leave. however, the eftekharis’ had to leave iran in 1998 for the sake of taher’s grandmother, who was suffering from spinocerebellar ataxia, in order to get her admitted into the mayo clinic in rochester, minnesota.
the eftekhari family settled down in saint paul, minnesota, as it was the best place for taher’s parents to find a new job and still close enough for frequent visits to the mayo clinic. while the neighborhood they emigrated to was a relatively upper class area, and had a small pocket of fellow iranian families, the eftekharis weren’t as fortunate as their neighbors. despite their meager savings and later salaries, farhad and simin worked hard to provide for taher and later, his little sister laleh. they certainly didn’t have as much as their neighbors (or as much as their neighbors pretended to have), but they made sure their children would grow up comfortable.
his childhood in saint paul was quite quaint, playing peewee hockey and visiting the mall of america just once like any other minnesotan. it wasn’t easy growing up in post-9/11 midwest, but taher believes he got out of it rather unscathed. he grew up observant of his religion and though he’s distanced himself from all religion these days, especially after the outbreak, taher still considers himself muslim.
his grandmother, the reason why they moved to america, unfortunately progressed rapidly in her disease. by the time taher had entered middle school, his grandmother had lost nearly all motor functions and was restricted to a hospital bed full time. when his grandmother’s condition worsened, taher’s family and the hospital entered a lengthy battle over his grandmother’s right to die. though his grandmother signed a dnr, his father had power of attorney. taher doesn’t remember much about this period of his life, but his testimony in the case that his grandmother could follow him with her eyes (which, while not exactly untrue, was exaggerated for his father’s benefit) helped draw out the legal battle. eventually, his grandmother died naturally, but it’s instilled something in taher: tell people what they want to hear.
though his experience with his grandmother’s disease and death was traumatic, taher proved to have a great deal of resilience in him. even while the case was on-going, he was able to distract himself with a growing love of music, particularly with the music of bob dylan (fellow minnesotan!); practically from the moment he heard it, taher wanted to make his own music, constantly singing and banging spoons on pans in a childish effort to drum along with the song playing on the radio. by the time he was nine, he was taking guitar lessons, and taher chose it as his own personal instrument the second he started to strum. he joined the school band in middle school, playing the cymbals to please his parents, but he absolutely hated it and it didn’t follow him into high school. several little garage bands did, though. taher tried to start many bands with his friend, all with worse names than the last, but they never made it past the formation stage, only once making it to the battle of the bands (and losing).
while his buddies weren’t serious about the music, or at least not serious in the way taher wanted, he decided being a solo artist was a better fit. you can’t get mad at your bandmate for showing up late to practice if there’s no bandmate, right? when he graduated high school, he didn’t go off to college, instead deciding on making his passion for music his life. his parents were hesitantly supportive, on the condition that he went to community college to at least take a few music classes and some other classes to fall back on, which taher obliged as long as he didn’t have to pay for it.
the thing was, taher was actually good at music. a decent singer (in a grumbly, bob dylan-way), a good guitar player, he favored covers over original songs but he played them well. teenage boys wanting to be rock stars is as common as breathing, and taher, while good at music, wasn’t truly anything special. all the famous (not necessarily good, but famous) people were getting attention on social media, so taher tried that too, but agents never came a-knockin’, and taher was ready to give up and follow his father’s advice on focusing on a real career.
just when he was ready to give up, he found a flyer for a guitarist wanted; while he vowed never to join a band again, he was desperate, and he texted the number on the paper to get more information. after an audition or two, taher was part of the band, but not in any way in control of it; he was just a replacement guitarist, a little backup vocals here and there, but he was (mostly) fine with it as long as he got to keep playing music. the band was much more popular than taher had ever been, doing gigs across the country, even opening for some prominent singers, when things came to an end in los angeles, california.
the band didn’t die or end, they just kicked taher out. sick of his pretentious attitude and fuckboi ways, they abandoned him in the city after a blowout fight. he expected his parents to send him money for a flight back home, but farhad was irritated with his son’s increasingly entitled behavior, and they left him to rot until he could pay his own way back home.
the band didn’t die then, but it wouldn’t have any chance to take off with the outbreak occurring only a few months later. taher had settled into working as a waiter at the same place he tortured with his music on open-mic fridays, sharing an apartment with three other musicians (though none of them were in any bands together) and dealing with a lot more abrasive, shocking displays of islamophobia since the election a few years before. he had ignored most of the hysteria over the virus, too busy thinking about himself and making as much money as possible, but it practically knocked on the diner’s door when it came to los angeles. taher escaped his workplace, making it home to his apartment and finding his other roommates holed up.
the roommates survived in the apartment for a good few weeks, but eventually they ran out of food and their heightened personalities were clashing. taher and his roommate, alex, left for supplies and ended up never returning to the apartment building. they survived together for awhile, colliding with other bands of survivors occasionally, all searching los angeles for some sort of safe zone, but found nothing. he eventually lost alex on their travels, only to arrive on the doorstep of the central library days later.
the camp wasn’t nearly as established or thriving as it is today, but they quickly accepted taher behind their doors so he wouldn’t get eaten and die. that was around the end of september 2019, so he’s been part of the library for the long time. he’s seen the camp go through changes, people that come and go, people that have died. while he seems like an unlikely person to survive, it’s mostly thanks to living behind the library walls—except for when he leaves to trade supplies. if taher has a talent besides music, it’s the gift of gab. he’s an expert salesman, and he’s built up a loyalty to the library camp, so he routinely risks his life to trade goods (and information) with anyone willing to entertain him for a few minutes. so far, he’s kept himself alive, though it’s only a matter of time before his mouth gets him into some trouble he can’t easily get out of.
wanted connections:
campmates— taher’s been part of the camp for four years now, so he’s bound to know your muse if you’re part of the library. whether they can tolerate his ass is up to you!
friends— while taher doesn’t... vibe with everyone, there’s a lot of people he does vibe with. i imagine he cherishes these friendships more than he’d like to let on, one of the few normal things that still exist in the apocalypse.
enemies— due to his uncanny ability to be an annoying little shit, there’s no doubt taher’s rubbed someone the wrong way in the los angeles area (or his own camp). maybe he traded some faulty shit to your muse, got that muse into trouble somehow, or he just said the wrong thing at the wrong time. there’s a lot of ways to go about this!
romantic or sexual partners— taher wouldn’t let a thing like the apocalypse get in the way of him getting laid lol. the problem is that he’s very fickle so while he may totally be in love with your muse one day, the next day he’s giving them the cold shoulder. luckily for him, it’s kind of easy to ghost your hookups when the world has ended.
ex-girlfriend or boyfriend— same as above, but they had an actual established relationship that ultimately ended. it can be for any reason, such as him being an asshole or anything else you’d like.
regulars— taher is a trader by trade, and i imagine he’s got established routes to make it easier to do his job. basically he’ll come by their home/general area where your muse is likely to be on any given day, shoot the shit, and see if there’s anything worth trading in your cache. they can either enjoy his little visits or find them tiring. up to you!
anything else you can think of :) message me on here or discord (wanda’s loving boy#1003) if you wanna plot!
