ROLEPLAY GUIDE: THE FAE

FAE PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION

Fae look like small, wiry humanoids with delicate, translucent wings that flutter a lot more for expression than for actual flying (most people in the Garden treat the wings as basically decorative/vestigial). They’re often described as having a slightly “storybook” presence—big eyes, quick movements, and a tendency to perch, loom, or hover at the edge of a group like they’re deciding whether to join the scene. Size can vary a lot (you’ll occasionally meet a Fae who’s huge), but the shared visual is the wings and that “too alert for comfort” posture.

HOME “PLANET,” HISTORY, AND CULTURE

Fae are the odd ones out: they don’t have a confirmed homeworld. Fae folklore insists they did—a lost place called Tír na nÓg, where (allegedly) magic worked and their wings were more than vestiges—but in ordinary Garden life that’s treated as a legend (even many Fae don’t agree on whether it’s literal, metaphorical, or pure coping myth). What everyone does agree on is the practical history: Fae survived by living as stowaways on Servitor ships, learning routes, timing, and how to hop from vessel to vessel. Some chose space life; others secretly made their way down to planet surfaces, which is why “fairy folk” stories show up all over. Over time, key Fae figures were central to the diplomacy that became the Transplanetary League, and the species split culturally into spacefaring Fae (shipwise, networked, politically savvy) and ground Fae (hidden communities, tradition-heavy, wary of attention). Their social superpower is that they love other peoples’ customs—they collect traditions the way other species collect gear, and they’re often the ones hosting weird little cross-cultural celebrations because “why wouldn’t we try everyone’s holidays?”

LANGUAGE, AND HOW TO “SOUND LIKE ONE”

Fae speech is not built like normal “translate-the-words” language. It’s built around states and social safety: instead of saying exactly what you mean, you say something like “pressure is present” (danger) or “closure” (goodbye). To sound Fae in English, keep lines short, calm, and oddly abstract, like you’re trying not to accidentally step on a social landmine.

Fae speech tends to avoid concrete nouns on purpose—they’ll describe what something does to the situation instead of naming the thing. So a Fae won’t say “Servitor,” “gun,” “wormhole,” or even “ship” unless they’re being unusually blunt; they’ll say stuff like “the watcher,” “the harm-maker,” “the passage,” “the carrying-place” or just drop to pure state-talk: “pressure is present,” “closure,” “entry is offered,” “a price is forming.” In RP, lean into this by circling the object with function/role words, and only “snap into nouns” when you want to signal urgency, intimacy, or a deliberate escalation (it reads like you’re breaking a taboo to be clear).

Avoid hard commitments (“I swear,” “I promise,” “I will definitely…”) unless you want it to feel serious. Drop in a few Fae anchor-words and you’ll read instantly as Fae: kopo (attention), eth (settled/yes/okay), doru (withdraw/no), prel (pressure/danger), gava (gathering/meeting), or (closure).

NAMING YOUR AVATAR

Give your Fae a cover name—something safe to use in public—because “true names” are treated as a big deal in Fae culture. This is why most Fae you see in the game lore are using names drawn from Terran culture. But you can feel free to steal from any language and any culture for a name!

You shouldn’t use your true name in the game at all. But if you want to develop one, keep it short (1–3 syllables), breathy, and vowel-forward, with soft consonants (k / p / t / r / l / s / w) and not many hard “thunk” endings. The easiest pattern is: (soft syllable)(soft syllable), and if you want a slightly more formal vibe, make it a two-part name where the second part sounds like a state-word: Kopo-Rie, Len-Prel, Eth-Gava, Thira-Sela—stuff that feels like it could be both a name and a tiny sentence.

ROLEPLAY TIPS FOR PLAYING A FAE

• Be careful with certainty. You’re comfortable with “maybe,” “not yet,” “pressure present,” “closure” — and you get visibly tense around oaths and promises.
• Collect traditions. You’re the one who knows everyone’s holidays, taboos, greetings, and comfort-food rituals—and you actually enjoy it.
• Space Fae vs ground Fae is a real cultural divide. Space Fae are networked and pragmatic; ground Fae are secretive and tradition-guarding. Pick a side (or play the friction).
• Treat the “other world” as disputed lore. Some Fae talk about the Veil/Tír na nÓg like it’s history; others roll their eyes and call it stories for children.
• Understatement is your drama. You don’t shout “DANGER!” — you say “pressure is present,” and everyone who knows you should instantly worry.
• Show emotion through motion. Wing fluttering, stillness, turning away (“withdraw”), stepping closer (“attention turns toward you”).
• Be good at being overlooked. You learned to survive near Servitors; slipping through cracks is part of the identity.

FAE PHRASEBOOK HOTBAR

• Hello / Hey: kopo rie
• Goodbye: or
• Yes / OK: eth
• No / refuse: doru
• I don’t know: deth-kare
• I understand: eth-kopo
• I do not understand: telake kopo
• I mean no harm / peace: len-prel masi
• Follow me: rie sava
• Wait here: luma sen
• It’s dangerous here: prel wia
• Safe travels / go carefully: kire nipo

• Stop!: doru!
• Run!: sava-kire
• Hide!: ruho
• I want to trade: ovar-kensa

“Spice” you can use as exclamations

(Fae don’t really do goofy swear-words; their “spice” is just sharper state-language.)

• Too much / unfair!: kor-prel!
• We survived: thira eth