Bio:

Name: Cied Utpil

Age: Ageless!

Sex: (Technically not) Male

Sexuality: He COULD like anything. Or he could hate everything. Try him.

Species: (Admin abuse) The god of Luck and chance!

Appearance: Cied sports vibrant golden hair that is combed downwards, shining golden eyes and slightly tanned skin. He's about 183 cm tall, with a lean build that makes him appear as someone who only does enough exercise to stay in shape. Wears a black tailcoat with gold trimming, a chest pouch, two pockets at waist level and three pouches at the hip. The inner of the coat is a red velvet, with a button-up inner pocket on the left side. It also has two shoulder epaulets, both sewed with a gold thread and made with an insignia of a pair of die on each side, each featuring different results; the left one with snake eyes and the right with two sixes. Underneath, he wears a white undershirt and a white pair of dress pants. Around his neck, he has fastened two miniature die, secured by holes in the top right of the '2' and '5'

Personality: Cied has an erratic personality, the deity unlikely to ever stay the same for what is, to him, a long time. Of course, that may end up being days, or Millenia. Commonly, he is quite an average person, cheerful and happy to keep his eyes facing forward, though it is possible to reveal the wealth of knowledge he's accumulated over time if one tries hard enough. He is usually kind to those around him, especially mortals, his prescience itself a source of near infinite fortune, though he can get frustrated like any other. He also has problems with commitments for a multitude of reasons, one of which is the fickle nature of luck.

Likes: Velvet, Gold, Poker, Chance, Flowers, Quiet places.

Dislikes: Casino machines, Rigged games, Cheating, Meaningless violence, Liquorice.

Backstory: Cied was created the moment the first action in the universe was carried, when by random luck the first being was created. As such, luck was conceived and with it, it's avatar. He has existed since then, making him one of the eldest gods within creation. However, he has never preferred the sky's spotlight, instead staying where he can act as he wants; the people. That isn't to say he hasn't done his fair share of godding in his time, but he has simply let others do as they would.

Other: He's a god. He does things.

Scenarios:

1. You're a god! Lucky you. And not just a really good video game player, but you control things. What things? That depends. But, what you are, is a member of a group of people that are wondering if the god of luck is still doing his job, or if he has outgrown his position. As such, by method of drawing straws, you've been dispatched from the Great Above to check on him.
You find him in a small town, in a country you don't remember, during the twenty first century on the planet Earth. He's sitting in a library, reading a book to a circle of children. It would have been hard to spot him, if not for the extravagant clothing he wore and the unmistakeable change in atmosphere one such as yourself felt near him. When you entered, his eyes danced away from the page for a mere moment, looking right at you before returning to the book, not a single word in the passage missed. It was only when he finished the book and laughed along with the children, after friendly conversation with the parents, that he walked over to you, a large grin on his face and his hands in the waist pockets of his coat. He opened his mouth, his voice a soft timbre with the slightest hint of a civilised accent.
"Well, this is unexpected. Am I needed?" He asked, cocking his head ever so slightly.

2. You're a god, angel or a demon. Maybe even an archdemon, if you're really powerful! Ooh! Maybe you're just a poor, perhaps not so innocent mortal caught in between. But nonetheless, the two Ascended realms have been at war for a long time, long enough that the third realm, containing the planet Earth, has begun to get involved in the fight. If you're a god or an angel, you've been called into the tent of a strange deity, the god of luck. It's strange, how one could have such a relatively tame title, when placed against those such as Mars or Bellona, yet still be so respected in conflict. When you enter the tent, you're prepared for a giant hulk of a creature, clad in armour with a wall of weapons. After all, of one didn't have such a repotioure, how could you compete against the big names of either side.
What you didn't expect to see was a man in his admittedly colourful Sunday best, sitting on a gold deck hair with his feet kicked up atop the only other furniture in the room, a large brown chest. "Oh, hey. You're here. Nice."

If you're a demon, archdemon or mortal, this is less nice. There's a war and that means there are battlefields. You happen to be in one, for one reason or another. The fight was going well for the demons, only small gods and angels present, not even a smidgen of the power of Michael or Aries. However, it all began to go wrong all of a sudden, the troops of the Nether realms tripping over nothing in their fights, their equipment malfunctioning in ridiculous ways. An anvil had even fallen onto the head of a witch, despite the sky being as clear as a crystal ball.
Then, that when you see him. He strode from the numbers of Up Above, the angels and minor gods clearing a path for him as the combat seemed to slow. His face was set in a neutral glare, looking at the armies ahead of him and idly spinning a pair of dice in his hands. "Alright. I believe we're done here, right?" He asked, the man using surprisingly human speech, his voice even a slightly high pitched American accent. But there was no mistaking it. The way he walked, the clothing in this environment, the confidence. This was a true god, staring down the armies of the Down Below.

3. You're a mortal. Perhaps not human, but you're decidedly not a deity from myth and legend. Speaking of though, there has always been a story in your community, passed down from it's founding. It's said that deep in the nearby forest, past the packs of ravenous wild animals and plants that seem to defend themselves and their homes, there is a large estate, ran by a man dressed and in possession of the greatest of the world's finery. It's said that he will challenge anyone who can get to him to a game and the winners will receive unyielding luck for the rest of their days. It's been generations since the myth started, but none have been able to prove it. Similarly, however, no one has been able to map out the forest and prove it wrong, so it has been mostly forgotten. You, however, know of the myth. You know of it and you want it. So, you set off into the forest, whatever your reason. Not even half an hour of walking and you've been greeted by howling hounds, the branches of the trees seeming to move on a will of their own.
How you plan on moving forward? That's up to you.

4. If you really don't like these, feel free to make one. Just tell me what it is, first.