udcathal-blog

[udcathal-blog]

HIS LIPS TWITCH, barely holding back his own amusement. laughter is music to his ears, whether it be someone else’s or his own, but he’s already dressed like a fool; he doesn’t need to guffaw like one as well. “are you interested?” he asks, once the fellow has calmed down. “i’m sure i could come up with something plausible enough, if you’d like me to… tiddly your wink.”

AND THEN, AS if he hadn’t said something absurd, cathal returns his focus to the rules of the game. he picks up the smaller of the two discs. “squidger and wink,” cathal muses, running his thumb over the surface. “now this definitely sounds like bedroom talk. is this game supposed to be a metaphor of sorts? a way for the repressed elite to work out their frustrations in public?” but it sounds straightforward enough, if tedious. he can probably do this and keep from failing entirely.

“I SUPPOSE THIS’LL be my first…” his tongue wraps around the word with silky smoothness. “stroke. do wish me luck.” squidger in hand, he squints and lines up the shot as best he can. cathal highly doubts he’ll manage to get the wink in the glass, and sure enough, it lands mere millimeters from the man’s earlier attempt. “huh,” he says, straightening up. “well, this is more of a pickle than i thought.”

tiddly winks | NYB

(...)

As the wink landed just short, a scant few centimeters from the glass he glanced up at Cathal. “Got that part? It’s your first time, so just worry about getting it in for now.”

[udcathal-blog]

FEW? RAISING AN eyebrow, cathal makes a disparaging noise at the back of his throat, his disbelief written plain across his face for a few moments before he schools his expression back into one of neutrality. “all the better, then,” he says. “this party could use some amusement to liven it up; it has about as much cheer as a wake.” he’s still disappointed about the startling lack of public sexual misconduct here (he was promised an orgy!)

ONCE THEY’VE SHAKEN hands, cathal pushes his sleeves up to his elbows and moves towards the table, halting only as the gentleman asks him an important question--the most important question. “not at all,” cathal responds cheerfully. “i have no idea which game we’re talking about.” his intention is to do the best he can and trust in luck for everything else, though it would be smart to at least hear the instructions… and trust in luck anyways.

“TIDDLYWINKS,” CATHAL REPEATS. “sounds like something one does in the bedroom.” he scans the table and settles on, “white. after all, games imitate life.” feeling pleased with himself, he rests a palm flat on the table. “continue, continue. i’m all ears.”  

tiddly winks | NYB

(...) “The game is tiddlywinks and I’ll be using red, of course. You may choose whichever other color you like and we’ll begin on a step by step teaching basis.“ Jack crossed arms over his chest, fingertips tapping on pristine shirtsleeves while he patiently waited to begin.

[udcathal-blog]

HE LETS OUT a hearty laugh at the compliment. coming from julianna’s lips, he’s even inclined to believe in its sincerity. “oh, it’s ghastly,” he says with a wave of his free hand. “the tailor who made it was quite scandalized. i don’t think he’ll ever take a commission from me again.” cathal pities the man; he seemed distressed when he gave him the original design and begged him never to tell anywhere where he got the outfit from. naturally, cathal has been telling everyone his name.

RETURNING THE SQUEEZE, cathal smiles, affection in his eyes. “parties are more trouble than they’re worth sometimes,” he agrees. this one is significantly more tame than he first expected, but it’s tiring none the less. cathal’s likely been here for a fraction of the time julianna has and he’s already exhausted. “let’s recharge together, hmmm? it’s nice and comfortable out here.” he rests his head on hers and closes his eyes.

“WHAT A POOR, unsatisfied lady.” clicking his tongue, cathal attempts to shake his head but accidentally makes somewhat of a mess of julianna’s hair. strands cling to his cheek as he lifts his face and surreptitiously attempts to fix it. “though a column isn’t what i would look for satisfaction, and in such a public place. she really must have been down in her cups. how tragic.”

| we never go out of style; New Year’s Eve Ball |

(...) “All the sparkling juice and curtsies have been making me dizzy; I never realized that parties could be such hard work.” A crinkling of her nose shows her distaste for the continuous mingling happening inside the ballroom and for someone with seemingly limitless energy like the Liddell child herself, that is truly saying a lot. She leans her head on the other’s shoulder in mock exhaustion only to find that she quite likes the position and so stays like that a tad bit longer. “I caught Lady Jane trying to make out with a marble column earlier, it’s pretty safe to say that Lord Kingsley has not been keeping her satisfied. Poor thing.” 

[udcathal-blog]

A SATISFIED GRIN crosses his face at the poor, trapped individual’s protest. solid wood obscures his vision, but cathal is sure his facial expression must be delightful right now. how he wishes he could see it! “i what?” he teases, fingers splayed over his cheek. “do hurl your best insults at me; it’s been awhile since i’ve been called deplorable names of all kind and i confess i miss it a tad.”

AS SILENCE SETTLES in, cathal wonders if the man inside could have fainted or… died. human physiology is a mystery to him, but he assumes that, deprived of enough oxygen, the body might stop working? he contemplates carving a small hole in the side to check when the fellow pipes up once more, defiantly proud of his unaccomplishment. well, the man’s insistent, he’ll give him that much. “and yet here you are, trapped inside a children’s toy. what would you do if i weren’t here to--” he snickers. “--save you?”  

IT’S NOT AS if cathal has a particular favour in mind, but to set the man free out of the goodness of his artificial heart feels like a waste. better to get something out of a good deed than nothing at all. “got it in one,” he cheers. pushing himself onto his feet, cathal walks over and gives the side of the box a sharp rap with his knuckles. “so do i have your word? or shall i walk away and amuse myself elsewhere?”

.trapped

(...) Breath rushed out like hotsteam as the Queensandian pondered his options. Jack had always been and wouldalways be a man of his word, so he did not give it lightly. His suspicions ofthis area required even extra consideration than normal. If he promised anameless favor to a stranger, the consequences could be positively treasonous to the loyal man. “I suppose it’s hopeless to ask just what this favor expected of me might be?”

[udcathal-blog]

CATHAL’S EYEBROWS DRAW together at the stranger’s answer, lips stretching into a thin line. sightseeing is a believable enough reason to be (for the lack of a better word) lurking around if this were anywhere but the dollhouse, but there aren’t many sights to see around here. or, perhaps there are and cathal’s desensitized enough to to consider them mundane, but his point still stands: there is nothing here worth admiring--save for himself. as the dollhouse’s representative work of art (self-proclaimed), cathal would understand if people came from high and low in search of him.

“IF IT’S SIGHTSEEING you want to do, it’s always best to do so with a guide.” with a flourish, cathal offers the man a hand. “or a bodyguard, if need arises. cathal o’flannery, at your service. i’m knowledgeable about the area and require no tips! as a bonus, i’ve been told my voice is highly addictive to listen to.” he’s also highly bored, so this would be a win-win situation for the both of them. “unless my tree wrangling prowess has intimidated you, in which i must protest.” rather than rippling muscles and extreme manliness, cathal is a gentlemanly flower… of sorts. when he's’ not covered in blood.

.prickly | cathal&julian

(...) “i-i was ..” he stuttered out, mind running a million mile per minute to come up with a decent but believable reply, “sightseeing. yes, i was just merely taking a stroll to admire the scenery around the dollhouse.” his hand finding its way to rub nervously at the back of his neck while shyly peeking at the other through his fringes.

[udcathal-blog]

hey everyone! i’d really love to get more active on here, but it’s been a while and i’m kind of lost. i’ve complied a list of threads i’m in right now to see which ones i need to respond to and which ones have been abandoned. if we have a thread together (listed below), please LIKE this post or send me message if you want to keep it! the rest i’ll be dropping. er, also! if you want to plot or thread and we haven’t done so already, shoot me a message and we can do the things, yes! 

@udophelia - standoff

@udmason - effort

@udxceph - fishy

@udjulianna - in distress

@udroslyn - frills and things

@udxrose - come as you are

@udxjulian - prickly

@udxalexandra - of cards

@udxzac - playtime with a doll

@udxjack - trapped

@udxciel - cogs & stitches

@udjulianna - we never go out of style

@udxjack - tiddly winks

@udroslyn - right hand man. 

[udcathal-blog]

"Please, stay safe inside."

THE CORNERS OF his mouth lift in a rueful smile. it’s not his safety julianna should be concerned for, but her own. cathal can take care of himself, and if he were to get injured, it wouldn’t matter as much. he puts both hands on her shoulders and gently pushes her towards the stairs, away from the ruins wreaking havoc in the main ballroom, away from the screams and carnage. protect her, a distant part of his mind whispers. and hasn’t he already promised julianna he would? “don’t worry about me; i’ll be fine.” he speaks lightly, as if their situation were not one of great concern. “think of your own safety first. if wonderland were to lose you, it would be unfortunate indeed.” 

HE LIFTS A finger and lightly taps her nose. “now off you go! and don’t try to be foolishly brave.” 

[udcathal-blog]

"I probably won’t miss you."

“WELL.” HE PURSES his lips, feeling rather put out by the sudden statement. as best as cathal can recall, he’s done nothing to offend the holloway. not in specific, anyway. perhaps his general distaste for the cheshire cats has slipped through during their interactions. how unfortunate; and here cathal was congratulating himself over his control. crossing his arms over his chest, lower lip jutting out in a pout, he says, “i won’t be missing you either.” it’s a matter of principle now, and cathal is sometimes childish enough to act petty over these matters. “so let’s end this acquaintanceship on a note of mutual understanding, little kitten.” 

[udcathal-blog]

"I don't know where I am."

FRANKLY, CATHAL IS far from surprised. it’s rare for an outsider to purposefully wander into this region, and those who do quickly flee, unless they’re lost like the fellow in front of him. cathal wipes his grimy palms on his shirt before gesturing to the area around them. “you’re enjoying the wonderful hospitality of the dollhouse, also known as the sweaty armpit of underland. rejoice! we have corpses, we have ruins, we have toxic and deadly vegetation!” his grandiose tone is offset by the grim amusement in his eyes. “why would you ever want to leave this paradise?” 

HIS HANDS DROP to his sides. it’s impossible to even joke about half the time. “i jest; i have some time if you’d like to leave–or explore. i can act as an intrepid tour guide for a small fee.” and why not? he has little else to do. playing around with lost souls is a tremendous improvement over working the garden. 

[udcathal-blog]

"Regrets just bear us down."

REGRETS BURN; HE can agree with that much. they pull you down, anchor you to a pit of despair, and torment you with a constant cycle of what ifs and your fault, which is why cathal doesn’t have any. doesn’t have many. doesn’t have–

MAYBE HIS REGRETS are piling up, piece by piece. it comes with passage of time, he assumes. this is not the sort of conversation he expects to be having with a woman poised to break him into pieces with one simple command. for all her elegance, she is deadly. how can she not be? “you say that with a lot of certainty, my lady. speaking from personal experience?” he gives her a tight lipped smile. “care to share? i am particularly skilled at keeping all sorts of torrid secrets.”

[udcathal-blog]

"So it’s best just to stay away."

“THANK YOU FOR your wise and unsolicited advice, o great one.” his sarcasm is hard to miss, mainly due to the fact that cathal isn’t one to regularly be so openly contemptuous. there’s no hint of a smile on his face now, pale skin flecked with enough dark blood–never his–that anything but a morose expression would be grotesquely out of place. 

HE HAS NEVER known what to make of faust. cathal’s loyalty lies with the dollmaker and always has, but he’s not blinded to the trend of newer dolls pledging their loyalty to this man. the reason for their devotion alludes them; he supposes it has something to do with kindness. but they are dolls: by definition, they deserve nothing. 

WITH HOW UNCERTAIN he is around faust, cathal makes an effort to tread carefully, or whatever the word careful constitutes for him. “your concern is touching. unnecessary, but touching.” fingers wrap around the shaft of his hobby horse as he scans the room before turning back to faust. “but should you not worry about yourself? these infernal ruins do not discriminate between the queen’s pets and the dollhouse’s own.” 

[udcathal-blog]

“And I fell in love instantly.”

“It’s probably nothing.“ 

“It becomes perfect when you learn to accept it for what it is." 

"If you see something, say nothing and drink to forget." 

"And you may find, as time passes, that you remember it less and less." 

"Look, I’ve probably said too much." 

"If you don’t hear from me again, it has truly been a pleasure." 

"We are not history yet." 

"You are safe now." 

"You can let go now." 

"We have nothing to speak about. There never was." 

"I have chosen to not be certain of anything at all." 

"There are many things I wish I could remember." 

"I do not live but I exist." 

"I don’t know if he listens to me sometimes." 

"We can do this together, you and I." 

"You don’t know what to say." 

"I know what I saw." 

"Regrets just bear us down." 

"You are all to me." 

"Think nothing of it; it’s forgotten." 

"There—now you know. Has that filled an emptiness for you? Are you any happier now?" 

"I have something of urgent importance to tell you." 

"And for now, existence is enough." 

"No, not you! Not you!" 

"Please, stay safe inside." 

"I just don’t believe violence is ever the answer—it is a question. The real answer is far more terrifying." 

"We can get along." 

"I’m coming in there." 

"There must be something beyond this something." 

"I will try not to be long." 

"I don’t know where I am." 

"I told you I would be back." 

"I let that woeful beast live." 

"We have each other." 

"As with life, and as with all things, it will pass." 

"Am I in Hell?”

“I am certain that there must be more to us than just us." 

"Let’s not dwell on our corpse strewn past; let’s celebrate our corpse strewn future." 

"I probably won’t miss you." 

"Well, let’s just find out together, shall we?" 

"And it’s just no good anymore. We can’t carry on like this." 

"Nothing is real, I don’t think. Whatever; who cares?" 

"When I die, I want to have earned it." 

"The present tense of regret is indecision." 

"The future tense of fear is either comedy or tragedy." 

"I can disappear if I want to." 

"And what if the void is not as void as we thought?" 

"Time is weird; so is space. I hope ours match again someday." 

"We should all be so lucky to set our own futures." 

"I fear for what we know." 

"I fear for what we don’t know." 

"We have nothing to fear and never did." 

"It is likely I will learn nothing from this." 

"After everything that happened, I just wanted to see you." 

"It is too late for us." 

"But maybe you shouldn’t sleep in your home anymore. Just in case." 

"Your sadness will know no bounds." 

"Nothing will be the same." 

"Nothing has ever been the same." 

"When something is this weird, one shouldn’t assume to understand anything specific about it at all." 

"Ignorance may not actually be bliss, but it certainly is less work." 

"No one has ever known anything—not really." 

"I don’t know much about anything at all, honestly." 

"Everything is some level of probably, nothing is a promise." 

"You don’t know, and so it might very well." 

"Nothing ever really happens to me." 

"Thanks, that means lot. Not to me, but your words hold a lot of meaning intrinsically." 

"So it’s best just to stay away." 

"It cannot give you what you need." 

"Oh, you don’t even want to know." 

"But it wasn’t what I thought it would be." 

"I’ll be back as soon as I can." 

"You have no idea how often it is just you and me." 

"There always seems to be something upsetting you." 

"It’s not that there’s nothing coming to get you; there’s everything coming to get you. But relax anyway." 

"Don’t worry. All is as it was meant to be." 

"It was meant to be lonely and terrifying and unfair and fleeting, don’t worry." 

"This is because I am also slightly malicious. Sorry about that." 

"Thinking about it now, nothing seems good, let alone perfect." 

"And those imperfections in our reality are the seams and the cracks into which our outsized love can seep and pool." 

"And sometimes we’re annoyed. And disappointed. And that, too, is a part of how love works." 

"I just thought it was time for us to make a home together.”

[udcathal-blog]

Take A Bow | DO NOT EDIT.

[udcathal-blog]

BEHIND THE GILDED walls of the ballroom, past the painted smiles and shallow conversations, around the corner from the waltzing belles and grooms, is a shadowy room steeped in sin and greed. cathal stumbles on it half by accident; the party begins to bore him before long and he takes off exploring. security is tragic at the event, or perhaps cathal is good at sneaking around. regardless, none of the card guards think to stop him as he slinks through the halls and slips into a smoky room filled with guests of a disreputable nature. 

THIS IS MORE his scene than the fancy circus in the ballroom. 

WITH TWINKLING EYES, cathal stops in front of the main attraction: some sort of game? a game! better than playing the fool elsewhere, he’ll play the fool here. arms crossed over his chest, he leans over the table and grins. “and what illicit, morally repugnant pastime are we engaging in here?” whatever it is, cathal wants part of it, though he feels a sense of unease at the mention of a wager. somehow, it seems as if it would be easy to lose everything in such a place. 

“I TAKE GREAT offense at your slander. this outfit is a fashion masterpiece!” admittedly, cathal knows it’s terrible; that is the intent, but he’s growing fond of the ruffles. they bounce delightfully with each step. “but i’ll acquiesce. if i lose, i shall discard the shirt right here. but if you lose, dear ringleader, what shall you do?” tapping his finger against his chin, the corners of his mouth lift as an amusing vision hits him. “i think i would rather like to see you ask one of those finely dressed court ladies for a dance… with no pants on.” 

CATHALS STICKS A hand out for the man to shake. “what do you say? do we have a deal? an agreement between gentlemen?”

tiddly winks | NYB

(...) With a disdainful shake of his head that set unruly locks tumbling and several tongue clicks more in line with a nagging mother than a rambunctious twenty year old, Jack swept a long appraising stare over the other. “All right then, name your bet. I’ve got mine.” 

[udcathal-blog]

FOR CATHAL, HIS work is nothing more than a way to pass the time, to keep from descending into the depths of boredom in the dollhouse. the money he earns is of no use to him seeing as he isn’t the materialistic sort, and personal satisfaction is a myth--who would feel truly pleased with the work they’ve done for rich pricks? it’s slavish if he really thinks about it (and neglects to reflect on his own position, but ignorance is bliss). 

CATHAL TAKES OR refuses jobs on a whim, and when one about a broken sewing machine comes it while he’s doing something unrelated in the vale of tears, he almost ignores it until he remembers the red queen’s ball is coming up soon. this would be the worst time for a machine of that nature to break down, especially for a tailor. taking pity on the unfortunate soul, he decides to take a look and see what he can do. 

THE HOUSE OF his employer is grand, for someone not related to royalty, or at least cathal assumes so. he feels woefully out of place in his dirty, patched clothes and unkempt hair. cathal has been to the palace of both the red and white queens before, but he’s always had ample time to prepare for those visits. this is out of the blue and he’s unsettled a tad bit, though he buries it all under a sunny smile and knocks on the door. 

IT SWINGS OPEN to reveal his dapper employer. cathal does a slight double take; he’s not sure what he expected, but it’s not the man in front of him. “hello, hello,” he says, stepping inside, trying (and failing) not to gawk at the interior. “a good thing i can have it right as rain for you in a while. i hope. i’ll need to see it first, but i believe i should be able to take of it within the hour. it must be busy these next few days--you are a tailor, right?”

cogs & stitches

He’s just glad there was someone else to take the job because Ciel’s quite sure he would end up going through his entire pantry in an attempt to quiet his rage. The irritation from his situation however had started to ebb away, just in time for the hare to open his front door and welcome the mechanic.  “ Do come in, I don’t think I can survive another few hours agonizing over my broken sewing machine “. 

[udcathal-blog]

IF SOMEONE WERE to tell cathal he would one day be attending a ball hosted by the red queen of his own volition, he’d laugh and laugh and laugh. it’s completely out of the realm of possibility; not only does cathal avoid large events on principle, he’s also enough of a realist to accept the fact he’d never receive an invitation in the first place. 

AND YET HERE he is, a singular doll in a den of lions (metaphorical for the most part, though he hasn’t been checking the guests for sharp teeth). cathal is not exactly inconspicuous either, sporting a ruffled pink shirt bad enough to be labelled a fashion nightmare--all because he promised roslyn frills. in a strange twist of fate, he’s not the worst dressed person at the ball either. nobles are a fascinatingly odd lot. 

AS LONG AS he’s here, he fully intends to enjoy himself as much as possible. the disappointing lack of rumoured orgies aside, cathal flits across the room, careful to stick to the edges as much as possible. he bows, flirts, gossips, and winds himself into the confidence of a group of court ladies happy to spill the most lurid of scandals in exchange for a full glass of wine. though he soaks it all up like a sponge, cathal eventually excuses himself out to the balcony for a moment of peace, intending to gather his thoughts before braving the crowd inside once more. 

HE DOES NOT notice the familiar figure until she addresses him, too focused on admiring the beauty of the night sky. starting in surprise, cathal turns around to see who else but julianna, looking more resplendent than usual. a bright grin overtakes his features at the sight and cathal approaches her, stopping just in front of the marble bench. he bows, reaching for a hand and presses it to his lips. “julianna! how unexpectedly expected to see you here! you look marvelous; a beauty enough to rival the moon itself.”

IT IS THEN he looks down at his own ensemble and cringes. “i have no explanation for my own formal wear. no, i do. see, a friend mentioned frills and i may have taken it too far--” cathal cuts himself off for once and shakes his head. “i digress. what are you doing out here instead of inside on some handsome fellow’s arm? were the courtiers becoming too much for you to handle as well?” still holding her hand, cathal sit down on the bench beside her. “i’ll tell you one thing: i know far too much about lord kingsley's sexual preferences for a lifetime.”

| we never go out of style; New Year’s Eve Ball |

(...) “I was wondering when you were going to show up until I thought you wouldn’t at all, Mr. Handsome Savior.” 

[udcathal-blog]

BESTED BY A little prince; what a sad fate! cathal would hang his head in shame if he had any. he acknowledges he did an incredibly stupid thing and that zac might possibly be smarter than him with casual ease. although he will continue to bemoan his reputation, the truth is, people who know him know he’s an idiot. the air of mystery does nothing. “much obliged.” teeth flash a blinding white as his lips stretch into a grateful smile. “you have my gratitude, for what it’s worth.” 

THE NEXT QUESTION is unexpected and not altogether welcome. confusion mingles with irritation as cathal attempts to wrap his head around the prince’s simple curiosity. is he offended? a little. zac means no offense, he’s sure, but how is cathal supposed to tell him that his finds this question impossible to answer? more to the point, he doesn’t want to answer it. “unfortunately, if i told you, i would have to kill you,” cathal says flatly. his stone-faced expression cracks after a minute to show he’s merely joking. 

THE LEAST HE can do is make an attempt to satisfy zac’s inquisitiveness. what is it like to be none? sighing, cathal pulls up a stool and gestures for zac to sit before finding a seat for himself. “you’ll have to forgive me; i need to organize my thoughts.” he chuckles humorlessly and rests his elbows on a table, trying to find the best way to explain this. “what is like to be what you are: a human? can you put it into words, prince?” without waiting for an answer, he continues. “i… i wouldn’t be able to tell you the difference. i simply am. i exist as i do, and i have never known anything else. if i have, i don’t remember it.” 

CATHAL SHRUGS AND gives zac a rueful smile. “so to answer your question: i can’t. the dollmaker would be better suited for these kinds of inquiries.” with that settled, cathal pushes away from the table and stands up, brushing at his pants. “ah, all this pseudo-philosophical talk is giving me a headache. is there food available somewhere?”

{ play time with a doll }

(...) “Alright, I guess I’ll be the one to save your reputation and make sure to keep it a secret that a doll just tried to feign his identity to a son of the White Queen.” His words were coated with humor, complimenting the other’s amusement with his own. He looked at the other with bewilderment, strongly declining the offer with the shake of his head. “No, no, not really. I’m more curious to how you feel. Dolls aren’t mechanical robots, nor are they exactly human, so what is it like to be none of the two?”