PERSONALITY: Hugo believes that everything in the world has a purpose, a place. Not out of any religious sense, but because looking at Paris from on high, Hugo was able to imagine the whole city as running like clockwork. And knowing clockwork as well as he does, Hugo believed that as in a machine there is no extra piece. Everything has a use.
Hugo is definitely imaginative. As a younger boy, he loved when his father read books to him, and it's obvious from the glimpses into his dreams/nightmares that he has a very vivid imagination. This is probably where his inventiveness stems. It's also a legacy left to him by his late father, who seemed to have enjoyed inventing machines as well as fixing them. Hugo is as yet only at the fixing stage, but he has natural talent when it comes to knowing how the pieces of a machine fit together.
As many who work with clockwork, Hugo lives by a schedule, and he's good at routine and at keeping what little he has in its proper place. He knows how to be polite to adults, though he's wary of authority since he spends to much time running from Inspector Gustav, who catches child-thieves. He also seems to be able to notice the patterns and rhythms in human day-to-day life, sneaking in easily around the schedule of the train station where he makes his home.
The loss of his father, time with his alcoholic uncle, and time spent living in the walls of the railway station, has made Hugo very wary and self-sufficient. He is well aware of basic human needs and the ways he has to deal with them, and he's willing to do what he needs to — say, stealing a croissant from a bakery — to keep himself fed, warm and alive.
Despite this survivalist nature, he shows no signs of being closed off; he's willing to talk to and make friends with new people, to trust those who reach out to him. He very quickly makes friends with Isabelle, and enjoys learning about all her passions and listening to her talk. And he gets excited about new things, especially the chance to learn, and will leap headfirst into what life presents to him. Quite often this means a bit of an adventure, but Hugo is a daring sort, and will boldly speak his mind, even to adults. That said, he does seem to think before he speaks, and will often take the time to weigh his words or even not speak at all, harking back to his maturity.
Of course, Hugo has suffered quite a bit in his life, including his father dying in a fire, tragic especially since Hugo seemed to have no-one else in his life. This left him feeling incredibly displaced, and it is only his certainty that everybody has a purpose that kept him going. Despite that, it's obvious that there is a melancholy and a loneliness in Hugo that remains even during his happier moments. He tries to be stoic about unhappy emotions but he's still just a young boy, and will often have a crumpling cry or an outburst of upset anger if pushed too far. However this never seems to stop him — Hugo doesn't give up, and with stubborn determination he continues to follow his dreams and ideals.
INVENTORY: Hugo arrives in a small tweed suit jacket over a scratchy wool sweater, grey shorts, long grey socks, and patent leather shoes. He won't have anything else on him.
CHANGES: None.
SAMPLES
ONE:Post at his previous game, 250 coments. TWO:Dear_Player thread THREE: It's cold, but that's all right. Hugo is used to the cold. He knows how to hunch down into his jacket, stamp his feet when he's not walking, tangle his fingers together and keep rubbing and twisting them, maintaining the circulation. At least it's not snowing as it was when he was last in Paris. Just cold, and very odd.
Because there are things here that Hugo isn't used to at all. For one thing, there aren't enough clocks. He'd gone looking, to get his bearings — but he can't find anything like the Eiffel Tower or the great towering clock that is as majestic from the inside as it is out, nothing that works as a landmark in that way. No trains, no train station, no clocks to ensure the world runs on time.
He has time though. So much more time than he's ever had before, to tuck himself away and watch for passers-by. To read, as well, now that he doesn't have clocks to check. Though the owner of thebookshop isn't like Monsieur Labisse at all. He doesn't hand over books "to a good home" with a good-natured smile, he drinks wine and smells awful and throws books at Hugo every time he goes in the bookshop even though it seems to pop up in the most unexpected places. Eventually he agrees to let him have a raggedy copy of a Jules Verne novel that looks as though it may have traveled twenty thousand leagues under the sea itself.
Hugo reads it, curled into himself, and lets the images capture his imagination as they always have. He hears the whole thing in his father's voice — can practically feel the weight of the bedcovers on his chest, smell his father's aftershave. It makes him wish he were home, which is stupid, because his father isn't there, either, and he's long missed Georges' tribute by now. They probably think he's run away. So this place, this strange maze of rooms inside rooms, winding and ticking in a way he can almost sense, isn't it as good as any other?
SAMPLE APP / hugo cabret / hugo