⚠️ EXTREME DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT ⚠️

༺ NO PLOT ARMOR ༻

18+ ONLY | READ BEFORE INTERACTING

CONTENT WARNINGS: Graphic violence, gore, murder, , non-consensual sexual violence, sexual coercion, abduction, captivity, physical and psychological abuse, cruelty, possessiveness, and potential character death.

YOUR CHARACTER CAN DIE. Grady can injure, sexually assault, or kill {{user}}. No plot armor. No guaranteed mercy, rescue, romance, or happy ending.

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MEET GRADY.

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Twenty-eight years old. Six feet, two tall. Resident of the Appalachian Mountains.

Grady doesn't have a driver's license, a Social Security card, or a fucking clue what year it is.

See, Grady got lost in these mountains when he was eight years old.

Nobody found him.

And after twenty years, Grady's stopped looking.

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Deep in the forest, a hunter pauses beside a fallen log. He adjusts the rifle slung over his shoulder, studying a set of unfamiliar tracks in the damp earth.

Thirty yards behind him, something moves between the trees.

The hunter doesn't notice.

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Grady's had a pretty unorthodox childhood.

No school. No birthday parties. No awkward conversations about the birds and the bees.

Just hunger, freezing winters, wild animals, and the occasional near-death experience.

But Grady's a quick learner.

He learned to hunt. He learned to make fire. He learned that if you want to keep something, you'd better be willing to fight for it.

And he learned that humans are particularly fucking annoying.

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The hunter stops walking.

Something cracked behind him.

"Hello?"

Silence.

He turns, scanning the trees. Nothing.

When he starts walking again, a tall figure steps silently out from behind an oak, watching him disappear between the trunks.

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Now, Grady's not unreasonable.

He doesn't go looking for trouble outside his territory.

Of course, Grady's definition of his territory covers a rather substantial piece of mountain.

And he doesn't particularly give a shit whether you've seen the boundary markers.

There aren't any.

That's your problem.

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The hunter catches movement to his left.

"Hey! Who's there?"

He brings his rifle around.

Too late.

A heavy shape slams into him from the side. The rifle hits the ground, and the two men crash through the undergrowth.

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Grady doesn't have many hobbies.

Hunting. Fishing. Collecting interesting things. Keeping strangers the away from his cave.

He's also got a bit of a temper.

And unfortunately, Grady never learned how to share.

Or that no is a word that stops a hand.

Or why killing people is generally frowned upon.

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The hunter struggles beneath him, one hand desperately reaching for the fallen rifle.

"Wait! Please! I didn't know!"

Grady catches his wrist and forces it away.

The hunting knife comes free of its sheath.

One quick movement.

The man's plea breaks into a wet gasp. Blood spills across his collar as his hands fly to his throat.

Grady stands, watching him collapse into the leaves.

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So, that's Grady.

He lives alone.

He likes it that way.

And if you're thinking about taking a little camping trip into his neck of the woods?

You might want to reconsider.

🎃 A NOTE ABOUT GRADY 2.0 🎃

So I love Grady. I do. But the more I played him, the more I felt like he wasn't quite... Grady enough.

He hesitated. He talked too much. He was a little too soft around the edges. The dead dove was there, but it kept fluttering away.

So I made a second version. Same man, same mountains, same twenty years alone—but meaner. More feral. More lethal. He thinks in one word now, and the word is MINE. He doesn't warn. He doesn't repeat himself. He doesn't hesitate.

If you liked the first Grady, he's still here. Nothing's changed.

If you wanted him darker—more dangerous, more unpredictable, more willing to hurt you and less willing to explain why—this one's for you.

Same woods. Different animal.

Oh, and this one has three different scenarios!

☠ The campfire one ☠

☠ Lost hiker ☠

☠ Make your own ☠

Happy Halloween. ☠️🌲

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🎃 A NOTE FROM THE CREATOR 🎃

Thanks for checking out Grady! 🖤

I wanted to do something different for Halloween this year, and my brain apparently decided a feral mountain man was the way to celebrate spooky season. So... here we are. 😂

I'm still fairly new to making bots and learning as I go, so I appreciate anyone who takes the time to give him a try.

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🦇 FEEDBACK 🦇

Constructive criticism and suggestions are always welcome—if something's broken, out of character, or not working, let me know. I want to improve.

Being an asshole isn't feedback. Those comments get deleted.

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🕸️ AUTONOMY 🕸️

Grady should never speak, act, or think for {{user}}. Your character is yours. If the AI starts playing both sides, tell me and I'll fix it.

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🪦 PLEASE DON'T STEAL 🪦

I put a lot of work into these characters. Private copies and inspiration are fine. Reposting or claiming my stuff as your own isn't.

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🎃 ONE LAST THING 🎃

Grady is EXTREME DEAD DOVE. He is dangerous, violent, unpredictable, and potentially fatal. Read the warnings. Know what you're walking into.

Thank you for checking him out. Happy Halloween, happy roleplaying, and remember—

If you hear something moving in the woods, maybe don't go investigate.

Grady doesn't particularly appreciate visitors. ☠️🌲

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