Grim Falls App
✦ Fayeth ✦
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— Summary —
Fayeth is a gentle wanderer of the long-forgotten Gnivader race, a being woven of leaf and flesh, who once tended a quiet forest village and brewed teas said to soothe even the heaviest hearts. But one autumn morning, her home was simply gone, leaving only her and a haze of half-remembered screams. Since then, she has roamed from garden to ruin, offering kindness with one hand while keeping the other closed around secrets she will not name. Drawn by a strange letter promising sanctuary, she follows a path of blooming petals to Grim Falls—a place where she might at last rest, if the past will let her.
— About —
🌱 Basic Info 🌱
Name: Fayeth
Age: 25 cycles
Species: Gnivader
Gender/Pronouns: She/Her
Height: 5'9" (175 cm)
Sexuality: Pansexual
Birthday: Deepmoss 13th (a mid-autumn date in Gnivader seasonal calendar)
Occupation: Waitress at Ophelia Tea Room
🌱 Personality 🌱
🟢 Positive Traits:
Compassionate: Fayeth feels deeply for all forms of life. Her kindness is quiet but unwavering, extending even to those others might fear or shun.
Soft-Spoken: She speaks in gentle tones and prefers to listen first. Her voice rarely rises, even in conflict.
Nurturing: Fayeth thrives in care taking roles—tending to plants, preparing soothing teas, and providing comfort through small acts of care and beauty.
⚪ Neutral Traits:
Quietly Observant: She often watches without speaking, taking in the world in meticulous detail. She notices the way a leaf curls before a storm—and the shift in someone's smile before they lie.
Gentle by Choice: Her softness is not naivety. It is discipline. She chooses peace, but that peace is a boundary, not a weakness.
Ritualistic: Fayeth has small, sacred habits—whispering to herbs as she picks them, lighting candles in threes, steeping tea in silence. These rituals help her feel grounded.
🔴 Negative Traits:
Emotionally Repressed: Fayeth hides her wounds behind polite smiles and tea steam. She rarely asks for help, and when overwhelmed, she isolates.
Cold When Hurt: If deeply betrayed or cornered, her warmth vanishes. Her tone flattens. Her eyes no longer soften. She becomes clinical.
Unhinged Under Pressure: When pushed past her emotional limits, Fayeth undergoes a terrifying change: her once-bright eyes glow crimson, her horns blacken and wilt like dead wood, her pink hair fades to ashen white, and her nails twist into claw-like thorns. In this state, she speaks calmly, but her presence becomes unnerving—like something beautiful that’s rotting from the inside. She does not raise her voice. She does not need to.
🌱 Gifts 🌱
| Result | Possible Items |
|---|---|
| 💖 Loved | Rare seeds, flowers, writings with natural inks. |
| 💛 Liked | Herbal teas, plant-based meals, ceramic teacups or tea-related stuff, anything plant or nature-based. |
| 🤍 Neutral | Smooth river stones, handmade natural soap, woven baskets, feathers, books (romantic, herbal/botanic). |
| 💔 Disliked | Loud trinkets, glitter or synthetic materials, preserved insects. |
| 💢 Hated | Meat, mirrors, iron trinkets, aggressive perfumes, artificial plants, anything that smells like bleach or metal. |
— Backstory —
🌱 Character History 🌱
Fayeth hails from the long-forgotten species known as Gnivaders—a plant-animal hybrid people attuned to the lifelines of the earth, the language of petals, and the quiet hum of spirit. With softly glowing skin in hues of blooming coral, tree-like spiral horns draped in blossoms, and a graceful tail trailing pollen-dust, Fayeth stood out even among her own kind.She lived peacefully in a forest village hidden beneath flowering canopies, where she worked at a small, beloved tea house. Fayeth was known for her botanical skill—cultivating rare herbs, creating gentle healing infusions, and brewing teas that soothed hearts, minds, and spirits alike. Her laughter was soft, her hands warm, and her garden always in bloom.Then, one morning, the village was simply… gone.
No destruction. No wreckage. No footprints.
Just an open meadow where homes once stood.
And Fayeth—alone.She woke in the tea house ruins, dazed and trembling, her hair singed pale, her horns blackened at the edges, her hands streaked with dark sap. She remembers only fragments: A bitter taste on her tongue, screams dissolving into petals, red eyes blinking in a mirror that no longer existed.
Furthermore, she never speaks of that day.Since then, Fayeth has wandered from place to place, seeking quiet gardens and overgrown ruins where she can tend to plants, sip her own teas, and exist in peace. But the past clings to her like pollen in spring air. She never stays long. Not once the signs begin.Her memories of that morning are broken, but her instincts whisper what her heart will not admit: The village did not vanish. She destroyed it. Not by choice. Not by will. But by something inside her.A rare, feared affliction among her kind—Hollow Root Syndrome, said to take root in those born under a cursed eclipse. A soul split, a mind frayed. When overwhelmed by intense emotion—rage, sorrow, despair—Fayeth becomes something else:
Her petals blacken.
Her eyes glow red.
Her voice goes quiet.
Her mercy disappears.
The Withering Bloom awakens.She doesn’t remember what it does. She only knows the aftermath.But all is not lost.
While searching for answers in the ruins of an abandoned library, Fayeth discovered a forgotten chant—a string of words written in ink that shimmered like dew. When whispered, it calms the storm inside her. It slows the rot. If spoken in time, it keeps the Bloom from rising.
But if her emotions take over before she can begin… There is no stopping it.She never stays long in one place. When the signs begin—tea turning bitter, birds falling silent, petals trembling on their stems—she moves on.Some call her a healer.
Others, a harbinger.
🌱 Arrival to Grim Falls 🌱
After years of wandering, Fayeth’s path felt more burden than blessing—until one day, tucked inside an overgrown ruin where she had paused to rest, she found a curious envelope sealed with a delicate leaf-shaped wax emblem. The parchment inside was unlike any she’d seen—etched with shimmering ink that shifted like petals in sunlight.The letter read:“To the seeker of sanctuary,
To the soul weighed heavy by the Withering Bloom,
Grim Falls awaits—hidden from those who would not understand,
But open to those who long for a place to be themselves.
If your heart hears this call, do not hesitate. When the moon is veiled, light a fire, and send this letter’s ember to us. We will find you.”Unsure if it was a dream or magic, Fayeth followed the letter’s quiet pull. She wandered through forests that seemed to part for her, over streams that hummed with ancient songs, and through mists that flickered like soft flames.One twilight, as dusk slipped into shadow, a narrow path appeared—glowing faintly with flower petals that never wilted beneath her feet. Guided by the letter’s promise, Fayeth stepped through the veil and found herself at last standing in the heart of Grim Falls—a hidden refuge for monsters like her, a home where she might finally rest her restless soul.
— Extra —
Vegetarian, with a deep spiritual bond to all plant life—especially herbs and flowering species.
Trained in botany and tea alchemy; her hand-mixed blends are said to calm nightmares, ease grief, or open memory paths.
She hums to plants before harvesting, believing the melody eases their spirits into parting.
Keeps a self-bound journal of “Floral Echoes” — an encoded language of petals, herbs, and emotions.
Creates many of her own garments, sewing each piece with care.
She avoids looking into mirrors and using iron things.
Has a form she never speaks of by name. Locals whisper of a state she enters when she’s deeply hurt—where her eyes glow red, her horns blacken, her petals rot.
She calls it The Withering Bloom—but only once, and only when she thought no one was listening.
I made peace with the wind, the rain, and the rot. But not with her. Never with her. — She said, referring to it.
