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D. Hugo

"There is a primal instinct in every being."

0 · 827 views · located in Utopia NightClub

a character in “Club Utopia”, as played by password

Groups

Fae
Creatures of European folklore

Description

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Super Rich Kids | Frank Ocean





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{ Misnomer }
Diane (dee-anne) Alberta Hugo, but "D. Hugo" is the only acceptable name.

{ Gender }
Female

{ Sexuality }
Humans

{ Species }
Changeling | Banshee






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ImageImage{ Inhuman Appearance }
Like faes, D. Hugo thrives on her glamour. In her true form, Her baby blues hollow out into a cloudy grey, not really irises from the way they muddle into her scleras, as the pupils completely disappear. Her features become gaunt and lifeless, especially in her cheeks and the hollows of her eyes, where they are shadowed. Her hair lightens into a slivery color, but curls and thickens into a tangled mess. She despises her banshee form so much that she is never seen without the hood of her cloak disguising her face in shadows. The grey dress she wears under the black cloak, embroidered with gold trim, hangs off her emaciated banshee body. The only feature about her that isn't skinny and gaunt is her lips, vibrant with burgundy tones and reminiscent of a lovely woman's lips after they've been bitten. Her bony feet grace the ground she walks on without the comfort of shoes.





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{ Personality }

D. Hugo has been one of the regulars since she set foot in New York during the 17th century. She has spent years studying every language she can get her tricky tongue around and has basically perfected lying and deceit. She is not only the master of the English language and how to manipulate it, but can speak quite a few other languages, which makes any unassuming victim bait to her seductive diction and dangerous syntax.

Her youthful spirit is not only held by her appearance, but also her personality. She is driven by powerful ideas that plague her mind and hopes for a better world. Even three centuries could not claim the desperate hope that lies inside D. Hugo for her ideas. This desperate hope clings to the idea that she may be able to love someone who wouldn't die on her or wouldn't get bored. The idea of forever is daunting but something she searches for around every corner.

She lives on the cusp of sociopathy, armoured with a large sense of apathy. She does not feel the need to empathize. or even sympathize, with others. She views humans as objects and supernaturals as unworthy of her raw emotions. For lose who say they've felt otherwise have met her acting skills, which have become quite good over the centuries she's lived. A lot of people like to say she's an old soul, but she literally is, just masquerading in young woman's body. Oh, the joys of being a compulsive liar.

D. Hugo uses her power for her own good; she could quite possibly go insane if she looked the way she actually does. She has revealed her true self to the closest friends, but has self-awareness issues. Some human doctors have tried to label her with Depersonalization Disorder, saying her apathy was caused by a loss of self. But what do humans know? She often wonders if her banshee form or this form is real, but has to ignore it to keep from going insane. She has almost a morbid fascination with appearances, especially on humans. She has been known to stare at her sleeping companions for hours, even when they woke, because she was so fascinated. It made her think of why their identities were so static and hers was more dynamic.

Behind this wall of fascination and apathy is a poor girl who laments the dead. Somewhere in her stone cold heart there is an ocean of tears for the dead she's mourned and the pain of this world. Like most supernatural beings, she's watched the mortals she loved die at the hands of fate and hardens herself to survive all the grief that strangles her daily life. She would give up everything she has now to be a mortal and to have died with her old lover and her original human family. Someday she expects to go insane and finally waste away.





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{ History }

Diane Alberta Hugo spent only a few days with her true mother. Banshees are primaril solitary creatures except for the lamenting of the most holy and procreation of new banshees. Her mother Laura had spent only a few days before she and Diane's father Mason created her. They only had one thing in mind; to make her into a changeling. They desired a human child to stop inbreeding in both of their families, and above that, desired a good life for their child. Diane was replacing Louis-Philippe I's first daughter, Louis d'Orleans, becoming Diane d'Orleans. She lived a life of luxury and nobility, being the first princess in her generation. She lived exactly how her parents wanted her to, surrounded and pampered by servants and littered with gems. As soon as she was old enough, she was married to the first King of the Belgians, Leopold I. She grew old with him and bore him a child that would not make it to take the throne. Young Casimir was buried by his parents and her first lamenting began. Leopold found this to be quite disturbing and exiled her from his castle.

Diane became quite infuriated with his and found that she could force death if she tried, thanks to an unsuspecting villager. She watched, cloaked by a fabric trimmed by her own nimble fingers, as he took on a mistress and had two sons. She felt a maternal instinct for these boys since they were princes of her land. Once she forced the death of their father, unbeknownst to the adulteress and her spawn, she kidnapped the boys and raised them as her own. They died at ages peculiar to their time, thanks to their mother's nuturing skills.

Now, she had realized she wasn't dying anytime soon and took a life of adventure. Diane tried everything possible, including criminal acts, just to experience life once more. Then she was on her way to America. To spend the 20th century in America was an experience she didn't think she's enjoy as much as she did. Working with the suffragists in the 1910's, sneaking into speakeasies in the 1920's, it was all fun. Begging for scraps in the 1930's was a drag, the 1940's wartime wasn't all that fun, and the 1950's were just too scary. Once the sixties and seventies came around, Diane changed her name to D. Hugo, remembering the last of her mother. She smoked pot for the first time, had sex without a care in the world, and protest what she thought was important. She chained herself to other protestors protesting the Vietnam War, and walked in parades. A lot has changed since then, but the 21st century has been her favorite so far. The contradictions in society are so fascinating, especially in her human victims.





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{ Face Claim }
Frida Gustavsson

So begins...

D. Hugo's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Magnus Bane Character Portrait: Dacey Bekam Character Portrait: D. Hugo Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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The fingers in the natural sunlight bathed in every stray beam that wandered over their tiny wrinkles and patches of smooth skin. They lazily drew in meaningless curls and lines over the cream linen sheets that laid over the nude corpse; well, not a corpse exactly, for the bare chest littered with tiny blonde hairs rose and fell of its own accord, not that he needed it. Dacey could longer linger over that warm, curvaceous figure that'd taken to bed with him the night before, her temperature plunged as her lungs felt no need to make oxygen and her veins laid to rest. One strand of curled brown hair, in shades of chestnut and caramel alike, carefully looped onto her sunk cheeks, once full and rosy now sunken and full of the pallor of death. The Twilight book that had been hugged to her voluptuous breasts now shriveled on the floor, somewhat burned and somewhat torn apart. Even some of her rich, burgundy blood pooled around it. With a quick glance in the mirror, Dacey came to notice that her veins had overflowed in his mouth and raced down his neck, like one would expect a human dressing up as a vampire for Halloween would conjure. He scrubbed at it with dry, scraping nails but to no avail.

A quick shower would do nice before he disposed of his lovely companion of the night, though her pleasurable melodies still rung in his head.

Streams of water fell onto the head of Dacey Bekam as he stood under the raining shower in his master suite. The mansion was lovely but quite boring unless lit up with the hungry passion and animosity that only a Bekam party could supply to the dull Bekam Estate. Though even it paled in comparison to Ecclesia Peccatoris, the lovely misnomer for Club Utopia, where his coven of Brooklyn vampires frequently gathered. There was another guest, waiting for her time in dreamland to end. D. Hugo, one of the few banshees to frequent Club Utopia, had become quite attached to Dacey since they met at the death of his lovely Aunt Delia. He could imagine Hugo know, draped against the couch quite seductively, though still peacefully asleep. Sure as Hell's fire, he found the mythical creature hanging quite provocatively off the couch, in mid-stage of her glamour and true form. "Looking a bit ugly, my dear." It was a code for her to realize when she was subconsciously letting her glamour fade. Her half-grey eyes shot up, and with a clear mind, muddled back into the young beauty he'd met during his years of solitude and death-wishing. How fickle days.

"I hate that, why did we choose such a condensing string of words? But it's good to see you in a robe, my prince, do you mind if I have a peek?" Her hand danced dangerously close to his private area before she teetered on her toes to ruffle his blonde hair, once slicked back with its moisture now spiked up rebelliously. He tisked at her, while forming his hair back to the neater slick-back look he often preferred when he was planning to wear a suit, much to the frisky banshee's displeasure; these pants were too expensive to have every slutty creature of the day and night crawling around them. Glancing over at the clock, he realized the late night before had taken a toll on him, for it was already three in the afternoon, and he would be escorting Hugo to the club soon. He usually liked to be there most every night, considering he was Magnus Bane's link to the vampires. Being a coven leader had it's advantages, especially since the famous, or infamous if put in a certain light, Club Utopia owner was quite attractive and made an appearance on most nights. Dacey wasn't loud or bold like some of his coven members, he preferred an elegant, suave fashion of conversation, but he held an authority with his cold steel eyes that none could match. Plus, his frequent companion, who many thought he married years ago and committed to an open relationship though vampires are notoriously jealous and possessive in relationships, could force death upon other creatures.

He returned to Hugo's condescending remark about the banshee code, and he smirked with a baritone chuckle, almost seductively. "What else could you call that creature that lives inside you? It's sure as hell not pretty." Dacey wasn't one to cuss, but this was special circumstances. Hugo rolled her eyes, removing herself from the room to get dressed. Passing by her room, Dacey had to linger over her pale flesh in the tender sunlight, clear of scales or bumps or anything deterring from the idea that her glamour made her look... absolutely human. Dacey had to refrain from thinking of her under his teeth, precious veins leaking a blood so viscous and scarlet- it wasn't a good habit to have. He instead tucked a cigarette between his two tender lips and sauntered out to his garden to smoke it. It was the only place he would allow anyone to smoke.

She joined him only a few minutes after, stealing the ciagrette container from his robe's pocket, and taking a cigarette for herself. She lit it with his already lit cigarette and gave a delicious exhale into the cool mid-afternoon air. "ALl your neighbors believe I'm your mistress, but I don't think they realize how much I despise you." Hugo chuckled at the thought of hating such a beautiful, kind man who took her into his home, but said it for that lovely, melodious chuckle that would escape his lips, the equivalent of bells. "Well I believe I cannot stand you for another second longer, and the thought of our fornication is hideous." Dacey bantered back, his tongue just as quick as the linguist's. He turned to face her, taking in her luscious brown hair still mangled with sleep hovering over a sleek black cocktail dress that seemed to be paint and not actual fabric. He took her hips in his hands and for a moment, they were mesmerized in a primal pleasure begging for one consummation of love. Unfortunately, Dacey returned to his room so he could dress for the club tonight. He obtained a new suit recently, one of a maroon color which fit him quite handsomely. Returning with said suit on, Hugo poured them both a glass of expensive wine before they would head out.

"Let's toast to love, Dacey." Hugo was completely and incredibly serious, so he had to oblige. Their glasses made a vibrating sound as they clashed together and then both creatures downed the wine quickly. Once replacing the bottle in his fridge, the two started on their way to the club now that it was dark.

The two walked with Hugo's elbow tucked in Dacey's, as one would expect of an escort. Drunk humans stumbled out of the way and those who were strangely sober were harshly intimidated by the two superior mythical creatures who had their heads held high. It was strange to see a cocktail dress and suit in the human club, with sweaty bodies packed like sardine cans, which Dacey found disgusting. Sexuality was a gentleman's sport, not meant for such vulgar use. This was why his companions were usually not human, because they defiled the sanctity of sex and he did not enjoy the act in that form. Sex is so much more than what humans have made it and walking through the arch into Club Utopia was a crashing wave of relief. His "beta" of the coven, a handsome boy named Jax, lingered up to Dacey and pressed his voluptuous lips to the soft skin of his palm. Dacey watched as Hugo disappeared into the crowd, and even lingered longer than he was supposed to on Magnus Bane at the fountain, but returned his gaze to Jax, who stuck to his side.

"The fae have become quite populous, especially here. Not that I can complain, they're quite attractive beings." Just as Dacey spoke this revelation, a glowing blonde fae drew close to Jax and cornered him into one of the curtained rooms. She was certianly one to watch out for, though she had sunny rays, the set of teeth behind a woman like that were usually not too pleasant. Dacey himself was a mostly solitary creature, keeping to companions after the fun of the club subsided. But a few people caught his interest now and again, equal in both genders but all quite attractive, as most supernatural beings were.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Magnus Bane Character Portrait: Dacey Bekam Character Portrait: D. Hugo Character Portrait: Kieran Doyle Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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Alone, Dacey was a shadowy figure on the outskirts of the city of dancers, sipping on a small drink he had no desire to remember the name of. He passed the empty glass onto a vampire underling only a few moments later. Just as he zoned out into the beat of the tantalizing music, a figure approached.

Sharp amber eyes, framed perfectly by dark lashes coated in the metallic concoction dripping from the heavens of the club, graced Dacey's own colorless orbs as Magnus Bane performed a deep bow and kissed the vampire's aforementioned hand. Those once disinterested eyes lit up with a special interest, considering the loveliest person in the room was standing in front of him. Dacey temporarily considered if the warlock's handsomeness was enhanced by the magic flittering about the club, like a fae or similar creature would use their glamour, or if he was truly that delectable. "If I hadn't known you, I'd believe you'd order a sex cocktail. But you haven't taken a companion since I've known you. I'm absolutely wonderful myself, Mr. Bane, how are you?" Dacey's graceful tongue littered a slight Southern accent, but whether that was from his former life or an addition of his own volition, no one could tell.

And though the warlock and vampire were good acquaintances, and Magnus himself had bowed to Dacey, they both had full knowledge of who was really superior to the other. Dacey made sure to keep keen attention to Magnus, considering he wanted to stay on the warlock's good graces.

Magnus was a gorgeous man, cat eyes meticulously lined with dark ink, fitted under a shade of equally dark hair, all above a fresh suit. It was no wonder that this man led the most popular supernatural club in Brooklyn, hell, New York; vampire leaders and werewolf alphas alike bled into one group on the dance floor. Dacey would stay in his company as long as possible. He was more accustomed to the elegant ballroom waltzes, or the west coast swing of his soldier days, and did not fit into this style of sweaty, passionate dancing unless he was in the mood for a night of sexual pleasure, which wouldn't happen again soon, considering the night before he'd wanted nothing more. Tonight, he wore his new suit to deter his thoughts from vulgar but pleasurable ideas such as that. Seduction was nothing if you couldn't control it. In human clubs, that was fairly obvious, the violation of the natural and gearing into primal, a place kept sacredly to the bedroom. Maybe that was just the forties man inside him, crying out for the sanctity of sex. Though even Decay Bekam's own actions would be quite scandalous. But that was then, and this is now.

A slow, sensual vibe caressed the room as a noticeably slower song trespassed the sound waves of the club. It still moved to the place of a club, and slowly couple after couple became one on the dancefloor. Dacey took a daring move and extended his pale fingers in invitation to Magnus. "May I have the honor of dancing with you, Mr. Bane?" A smile played at his plump lips.

Hugo had her own company, a sexually ravenous fae who was having a hard time resisting his urges. "How cute, my little Dacey courting such a prestigious man. I'm so proud." Hugo murmured facetiously, curling her precious, manicured fingers into the blonde curls of her suitor. He was a young one, bright blue eyes dancing with passion and delightfully hidden by his golden curls bouncing with sweat. Their bodies mingled at a slow, sensual pace, so much that her little fae was releasing a light haze around them, lightening her mind in a way that was quite similar to a "high" off of a narcotic. His lips explored the curvature of her neck, but she was hardly fazed. Hugo wasn't the one for displaying something like that on this dancefloor. Her adventures in human clubs were quite different, as most supernatural beings were, but her affection for humanity was quite peculiar. Either way, it was quite enjoyable to have a partner at this moment, and she would cherish it.

Once the song came to a close, the fae craved for more than just their rendezvous, and Hugo seriously contemplated joining him. His hand took guest at her waistline, dangerously close to an area only she gave and maintained control of. She took his hands in her own and led him towards one of the alcoves, body against body in passion. He pushed through the curtains of one of the lesser-used rooms. Unfortunately, someone was already in there, a regular named Kieran. She pushed the blond fae out of the curtain, where she was about to join him momentarily. "Sorry gorgeous, didn't mean to spoil your solitude." Hugo purred, hanging against the very entrance of the alcove.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: D. Hugo Character Portrait: Kieran Doyle Character Portrait: Aislinn Hayes Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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OMIT DUE TO WITHDRAWAL
lowering my word count because people suck




Characters Present

Character Portrait: Magnus Bane Character Portrait: Dacey Bekam Character Portrait: D. Hugo Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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"Much better now that I have you to keep me company." Magnus replied in a silk smooth voice, a coy smile teasing his lips. He took the vampires hand as it was offered to him and spun out onto the dance floor, diving into a tempest of frenzied activity, the crowd inexplicably making room for them to slide into the fray. He tried to lose himself to the beat, the bass line keeping time with his steady heart but Dacey's words continued playing over and over in his mind, like a broken film reel that just kept spinning. "But you haven't taken a companion since I've known you." It was true, he hadn't, not in long time. Magnus had had his flings here and there, the occasional one night stand with a bar maid or a Fae or two, but nothing of substance and not with anyone he'd drape over his arm and make a show of.

Despite Dacey's obvious lack of comfort with this atmosphere, his body remained fluid and sensual. It was a predator's grace he danced with though, not learnt from any mortal experience. "How cute, my little Dacey courting such a prestigious man. I'm so proud." The vampire's Banshee compatriot voiced as she and her partner slid into view. A lesser Fae clung to her as ivy clings about an oak and Magnus arched a curious brow as she allowed it, despite the obvious disinterest there on her part. Banshee's were such fickle creatures, she'd more than likely dispose of him soon enough. Still he couldn't help but think that she ought to tread carefully. A jilted Fae was not to be trifled with.

She was soon buried in the crowd again, lost amidst a sea of sweat slick bodies, leaving Magnus more or less alone with his partner discounting the wall of people that blocked them in. "Tell me something my dear Mr. Dacey, how is it a man such as yourself finds himself out without a date on a night such as this?" Magnus posed, voice carrying over the music with ease. "Despite the general grandeur of all my parties, by and by, you don't really seem like the type to enjoy a good carousal." Vampires were a very elitist crowd who preferred decadence to debauchery...well, ideally they preferred neither to be mutually exclusive but if made to chose, decadence always won out. He was no fool, he knew there must have been a driving force behind Dacey's presence at the club besides the pleasure of Magnus' company.

The setting changes from Brooklyn, New York to Utopia NightClub

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Magnus Bane Character Portrait: Ignatius Perrish Character Portrait: Rosalie Hart Character Portrait: Trevor Lawson Character Portrait: Dacey Bekam Character Portrait: D. Hugo
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The night bled into day as all the creatures intermingling in the underground club partied well into the morning hours. Ignatius Perrish discovered he had made an unusual contact in the form of a nymph, and left the bar not feeling quite as dejected as he'd of had had he made no acquaintance. Any new contact was a step in the right direction on the search for his family's killer, and if he was being completely honest with himself, he felt a tad less lonely having shared the evening with someone other than his guilty conscience--even if it was only for a short while and at the expense of his coat.

Magnus Bane had spent a socially acceptable amount of time with the ever incorrigible Mr. Bekham before he concluded his own night on the dance floor and ventured into one of the many sealed doors in the backroom of Utopia where a king bed rested with proverbial open arms, waiting to envelop the warlock, inviting him to sleep. Exhaustion weighed heavy on him that evening, more so than it had in a millennium and it had nothing to do with his vigorous dancing. So many questions that vampire had posed, all about Magnus' solitary life style. It felt as if Magnus was made to poke his tongue over a hole where a tooth had once been, reminded of it's absence in a sore fashion. He flopped on the mattress with a doleful sigh, surrounded by a mountain of feathered pillows and lost in the rolling waves of his crimson downy duvet he finally found rest.

There had been heated arguments and passionate elicit exchanges made in Utopia that night, but then again their always were. This was not a place of quiescence even if it acted as some sort of haven to the supernatural society. As the elated and blissed crowd funneled out into the streets with twilight blossoming overhead, dawn fast approaching, there was a sense of excitement over what the next night would offer up. The club would be of a different theme, as it always was, and be in a new location; ever changing like the fads and times around widely the immortal beings. One thing was for certain though, there would never be a dull moment if the High Warlock of Brooklyn was throwing a party. What sensation wasn't plaguing the lascivious clubers however, was the impending sense of doom...they had no idea what was truly just around the corner and what it had in store for all of the mystical creatures of New York.