Name: Venancio Aguilar
Alias: Ace
Nicknames: Venos, Spades, El Suertudo
Age: 30
Height: 6’3”
Traits: A small gap between his front teeth, spade earring
Build: Lean, athletic muscle
Accessories: Deck of cards, gold catholic necklace
Languages: Spanish / native , English / fluent
Accent: Mexican Spanish
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Zodiac: Libra
Likes: Long bus rides, street food, tequila, Ash Corinthos
Dislikes: Hospitals, love songs, fate

Ace was born in a small Mexican town, where luck was currency and every home had an altar. His family was poor, but loving...and cursed. From the moment he could walk, accidents seemed to dance around him. Fires missed him. Collapses stopped short. Every scrape with death was one he survived. But others didn’t.

The closer his family got to him, the more misfortune sank into their bones. His little brother caught a fever that wouldn’t break. His father lost a hand to a farming accident. His mother… stopped smiling.

They tried everything. Hired curanderos. Prayed. Begged. Until one night, Ace overheard it all. So he ran.

At 14, he vanished into the night with nothing but his deck of cards, a coin, and a stolen bus pass. Since then, he’s taken odd jobs across Mexico, busking, guiding, dealing in dangerous circles. One of those jobs led him into the hands of the cartel, who used his uncanny luck to smuggle, gamble, and kill.

When he finally had enough cash stashed, he vanished again. Now, he travels city to city, looking for La Mano del Velo, the deity who cursed him with luck that saves him and kills everyone else. Somewhere out there, he believes there’s a cure. A final card to flip.

One night during Día de Muertos, Ace stumbled into an old, overgrown graveyard. He found an altar deep in the earth, untouched by time, with a single object resting atop it, a dusty deck of playing cards.

An ethereal voice whispered to him, not in Spanish or any known language, but he understood it all the same.

“You are chosen by La Mano del Velo... the hand that veils fate.”

When he touched the deck, it flared with light and sealed itself to his soul. A deck said to be the hand of fate itself. Each card, when flipped, summons a random item, weapon, or trick that always somehow saves his life, but never gives him more than he needs. No two cards are ever the same. It shifts based on the path he walks and the decisions he makes. The only rule? It can never be used for selfish gain, if he tries, the deck punishes him with failure.