Luciel stands at 5'10 with thick shoulder-length blonde hair and hazel eyes. Clean and smooth complexion save for freckles. Luciel sports four horns as well as the start of branching antlers, these are kept loosely bound with long strips of cloth which hold an array of symbols and Latin phrases painted in blood. The phrases depict a wide variety of prayers, though the symbols meld together like their own shapeless language which many suspect is demonic script.
Wide pupils constrict vertically into cat-like slits rather than simply narrowing, and reverse in reaction to darkness. Ironically, Luciel is far from a fan of bright light for this reason as it steals color from his vision in return for exceptional sight in low light settings.
Luciel speaks with as little mouth movement, accentuated upper and lower K9 fangs only hinting to the vicious maw behind them. With elastic properties to his facial skin around his double-jointed jaw, the rows of teeth continue another inch back. A bite from Luciel would be equally as horrifying as painful.
Lastly, slender fingers are armored especially around the tips with pale claws. The real oddity is how clean and filed they're kept, leaving them smooth and blunt to the touch...though they have a nasty habit of rapid growth back to razor sharpness if not tended to as religiously as Luciel keeps them.

In a slightly androgynous way, Luciel could be considered beautiful if the eye is willing to look past their monstrous features.

Luciel prefers an attire that resembles cloth, though is silken smooth. Form fitting though humble in its color resembling dried blood with his hues of faded crimson and charcoal black. The shawl worn over the suit holds an addition resembling a collar of burnt silver with a similar fastener linked to a ring around his shoulders.
The suit, itself has no pockets and the lower section integrates built in boots with flat 2-inch boot heels. It's unclear how this attire is put on or taken off, though the silver collar appears to be independent of the ensemble.

The quiet type, Luciel keeps to himself as he is wholly aware of what he is mostly out of fear of humans. This could be considered a predisposition, though his understanding nature reflects the notion to instead paint the situation as an unwillingness to unnerve humans with his appearance...and behavior.
Somewhere in the wasteland, Luciel found what some know as 'God', and his faith pulled him back from the sadistically feral blood that burns in his veins. Indefatigable purpose, empathy and a goal to aid the ailing currently staves off the monster that screams to maul humans and devour their flesh at every given second of every day. Because of this, his worship is obscenely odd and involves acts akin to the live sacrifice of animals, prayer/meditation, dancing in the moonlight (rarely naked) and 'sealing' (entering a trance to scribe the script into strips of cloth which adorn his horns and antlers).
Getting past his quirks, Luciel is a fan of company, though is a man of few words or facial emotions but is eager to serve human guests. His sense of humor can be seen as inappropriate or dark at times, but he means well and simply hasn't had much interaction with humans.
However, his greatest flaw is a vow of pacifism which some would see as his most honorable quality; an unconditional refusal to take life. Though he is far more than capable of defending himself and others with his qualities that separate him from humanity, the idea of drawing blood and being lost to bloodlust is a risk he refuses to take.

The events leading up to Luciel's birth are detailed in ways that have no business being recalled in text. A young woman bore the child of a horrific demon, a process that killed her in the process, leaving her older brother in possession of an abomination that spat in the face of God and Man. However, the small monster was still the last shred of family he had left. Whether it was this realization or simply beholding the unholy bridge between mankind and demons, he was driven into what the rest of his tribe described as madness. While he was ordered by the elders to dash the monster upon rocks and be done with the nightmare, he resisted and foolishly fled with everything his arms could carry, his or not.

My father was a good man. He taught me about the world and how we were the children of the earth and were born to live in fear. How to hunt in spite of my protest, how to harvest crops from the unbroken world...how to hide. I was great at hiding. We would play games where I would hide in the forest for days and father couldn't find me! It was in the woods where I truly learned how to play hide-and-seek with the beasts. Many ran from me, but the biggest one!
The biggest one had horns higher than I could reach! It had three eyes and fangs as big as my arms with HUGE claws! It was so cool! It roared so loud it shook the trees and my own shriek barely made the grass quiver, though that was probably the wind. I wanted it to make the sound again, to stay and tell me what else it knew...but it just...left.

It was years later that I realized how they all leave...
My father was my uncle, some madman who abandoned me in the woods time and time again to be eaten by the beasts who instigated my life. I learned this from an old man wandering the wastes when he found me over my uncle's corpse. Knife still in his hand and slashes across his arms and throat. The old man seemed to know him. More surprisingly, he knew me, told me how I was the child of the devil who killed dozens of those he loved. After an old word used to name the monster, the old man named me 'Luciel' before handing me a silver crucifix, saying that it would protect me.
Truly, he did not care what became of me, or even himself from the look in his eyes. He simply lost too much to have a handle on his old life. I followed him for a distance with everything my arms could carry and whatever I could fit in uncle's backpack in spite of his shouts to leave him be or what books he threw at me.

I...just didn't want to be alone. Even if it meant being at a distance and hated.
Weeks in, the man relented and taught me of the books he carried, the hope in the pages and its message for mankind and the mankind within me. He told me the truth of the world, and each syllable made me hate the man who had lied to me, stole me from my home and abandoned me in the woods countless times.
The old man also taught me about forgiveness...and gratitude. Without the evil and sacrifice of one man, I would have been dead before my eyes even opened. Regardless of the decade that followed and my life before, the few weeks I spent with the old man made me feel a part of something, as though I belonged.

Shouting matches with beasts, my first kill to protect the man...I understood prayer and it saved me from what I had almost become. I never wanted to be lost to the madness that left me in fits of manic hysteria like some rabid animal. I learned that believing in something had more power than what the true 'nothing' could actually provide. So after my trials and seeing the man disappear into the waterfall of sanctuary from afar, the old questions stung for only the moment it took for me to swallow and steal my resolve and begin building a shelter.

Do I believe in God?
No.

Humans are their own gods. Monsters only have demons.
And I made my choice of which one I wanted to be.

The Fiend blood that runs through Luciel gave him an innate skill in dark magic, though through conviction and faith, the darkness was bent across its own spectrum of physical manipulation, giving birth to light magic. This light magic has few but powerful spells focused on mending and protecting.
While Luciel wields these 'miracles', he is well aware of their origins. Demons bent the material plane to exact fear and devastation upon mankind in ways he seeks to undo through the base spell's understanding.