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Post by Steven Cheng-Mariano on Jun 17, 2012 0:21:51 GMT -6
"More accurately, thinking you're a piece of shit while a part of you simultaneously thinks you're better than everyone else," he pointed out. Writing was no place for healthy well-adjusted egos, he felt. "Did being the operative word," Steve said while draining half a glass of wine. "Five years ago... in Canada... out of print. But don't you forget about the novella I wrote for my Master's thesis, which is currently sucking up more paper in rejection letters than it would take to actually publish it. Sooo I'm not sure who you think wants this mystical second novel. The Flying Unicorn Press?" Steve was trying to be sarcastic, but The Flying Unicorn Press probably was a publisher in the magical world, for all he knew. In fact, he could probably half-ass some book about his experience as a Squib and get it out there, but the prospect was far too depressing to contemplate.
"I don't know yet. After I read the word 'discourse' for the forty-seventh time, I got university lecture flashbacks and had to go smoke weed, eat a pot of ramen and listen to Neutral Milk Hotel." Steve was fairly certain Foucault was a genius, but he'd quickly realized that he'd been misinterpreting his work for years in an attempt to write papers about how all fictional characters were somehow motivated by their repressed sexuality. It was a huge knock to his worldview, okay.
"Well, that was depressing." Steve shrugged, perhaps insensitively, as he continued to chew on the end of a toothpick. "I tried to get my friend Rory to fight some guys with me, and he wasn't having it either. Am I the only one who's channeled getting the shit beat out of him into adult bitterness and fantastic biceps? Because that is extremely disappointing."
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Isaac Lehrer
Pupil
Reticent Artist. Reserved Journalist. Introverted Musician. Deeply Oxymoronic.
Posts: 50
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Post by Isaac Lehrer on Jun 17, 2012 2:41:01 GMT -6
Isaac considered Steve’s correction for a moment and then nodded, conceding, “I’ve never had that one myself but more power to you if you have. Maybe that is what I need to become a better writer, I’d never considered it before,” he remarked lightly. “Just because you did once, five years ago, in Canada doesn’t mean you can’t again in London, England, now,” he argued, “Look, why don’t you give my publishers a call? They’re pretty good about considering your work at length rather than rejecting it outright like most places have a habit of doing,” he suggested.
“Huh… so that is what arts students at university do, I had always wondered,” he joked lightly before smiling with a shake of his head, “Foucault… power in discourse, no? I’m afraid I shall be of little use as I never studied English, or even picked up a critical theory book. But do let me know when the lecture flashbacks fade enough to get to grips with Foucault.”
He matched the other bloke’s shrug with one of his own, “Probably. I know it wasn’t exactly a ball experiencing it,” he commented lightly enough. Inside of course, Isaac had a big old ball of bitterness that would probably match Steve’s, if only he’d let it out. “Rory sounds sensible,” he noted with a laugh, “Yes, I think you might be, sorry to disappoint. Personally, I channelled that into introversion and unease with myself but… we all have our own ways of dealing with things.” Absently gazing over the groups of people around them, he let out a groan as he caught sight of somebody stopping by his photograph, “Speak of the devil and thus he shall appear... my brother Michael is here. Great. I wonder how long it will take before he issues a patronising congratulations or makes a subtle dig at how I choose to live my life,” Isaac muttered rolling his eyes. That had happened far too often for it to be a surprise anymore. Credit to Michael though, he’d never came to one of his exhibitions to say such things before, that was new at least.
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Post by Steven Cheng-Mariano on Jun 17, 2012 14:29:33 GMT -6
"But you must. Because you're here." Steven flat-out refused to accept Isaac's modesty as a part of his reality. It just made no sense to him. "Maybe you're too polite to say it, but if there wasn't some part of you that thought your vision was more original and important than millions of other people's, you'd be satisfied to get a photo displayed next to the bathroom in your local library." He then made the executive decision to grab two glasses of wine at once. "Thanks for the pity, dude, but I'm not sure that's how it works."
"Pretending that I don't stick out like a sore thumb in every possible situation would probably be a futile attempt at dealing with life, for me," he said through a mouthful of gruyère. "Who?" Steve asked, easily glancing over the heads of all of the other attendees to spot Isaac's brother Michael standing before Isaac's photograph. "Huh. He's actually a good-looking dude. And I usually don't trust Han's taste at all," he said, accidentally letting it slip that Hannah once had told him she found Michael attractive after she'd met him at Helena's party. "But, you know what? Fuck him. Making it as an artist is astronomically more difficult than whatever he's doing with his shitty life. Lawyer? Financial analyst? Fancy pimp?"
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Isaac Lehrer
Pupil
Reticent Artist. Reserved Journalist. Introverted Musician. Deeply Oxymoronic.
Posts: 50
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Post by Isaac Lehrer on Jun 17, 2012 15:56:05 GMT -6
Isaac considered Steve’s argument before looking unsure, “I don’t think it comes down to politeness, I just make art because I like to capture the beauty that there is in the world. I don’t do it for recognition or money or egoism… it’s because I enjoy it, and it’s the only time I’ve ever really felt able to express myself properly,” he explained. “I don’t think my vision is more original than everyone else’s; in fact I remain perpetually bemused that people have been so complimentary about my work. If someone else thinks my work is worthy enough of being showcased like this then I am flattered, truly, but something about me will also feel like I don’t quite deserve such praise. Sorry to disappoint but that is genuinely what I think.” Then, frowning as he grabbed two glasses of wine at once, he tried to backtrack, “I wasn’t pitying you, I was merely trying to help, one writer to another.”
“Whatever works for you,” he shrugged easily before continuing to look over at Michael critically, his brother entirely unaware of his gaze on him, as he listened to Steve. “Yes, and he knows it,” he murmured under his breath about his older brother before his head snapped back round to face the other man when he mentioned Hannah, “Wait, she’s met him? She thinks Michael is good looking?” he asked suddenly, looking probably a bit more disappointed by this knowledge than he ought to be. Of course she’d think he was good looking, most people did, and now he reflected he could probably see him as Hannah’s type – seemed successful, well dressed, well mannered, tall dark and handsome. He attempted a light smile at Steve’s joking, “If only you could persuade our parents, our siblings, everyone the family knows, of that viewpoint,” he admitted before shaking his head, “No, sadly not. He’s a politician and diplomat… or so he says. He’s head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation in the Ministry,” he explained, “That tends to sound quite impressive no matter how you try to spin it.”
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Post by Steven Cheng-Mariano on Jun 17, 2012 17:12:09 GMT -6
"I'm not saying you're a megalomaniac or anything. But it's not even about recognition? The external validation of yourself as... a person who is present in the world and created a thing and people are responding to that thing, thus momentarily justifying your continued existence on this planet?" Steve was genuinely curious at this point, if a little drunk, and was having a difficult time not spilling his wine everywhere. "I don't need your help," he spoke tersely. It wasn't Isaac's fault, really, but writing was dangerous conversational territory for them. Even if the tension was only on Steve's end.
"Who met who?" Steve asked... sometimes he managed to zone out so fully that he wasn't even aware of what was coming out of his mouth. "Oh, right. At Lady Armitage's New Years party, yeah. I don't think anything happened. I'm pretty sure she requires three letters of recommendation, proof of employment, a medical record and a full credit history before she'll sleep with someone," he pointed out. Steve then listened to Isaac and shrugged. "Parents dismiss the arts as impractical because they're difficult and competitive and they want the best for you, probably. Unless they're just assholes. I mean, they could be assholes, man, I don't know your life."
"I don't give a shit about Muggle politics, and I give even less of a shit about wizard politics. Not impressive," Steve decided, directing a rude gesture vaguely in the direction of the back of Michael's head. "So, what, is he going to acknowledge your presence, or just stand by the photo all night? Because the view from behind's not terrible, but I would like to judge how much of a douche he is when he opens his mouth."
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Isaac Lehrer
Pupil
Reticent Artist. Reserved Journalist. Introverted Musician. Deeply Oxymoronic.
Posts: 50
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Post by Isaac Lehrer on Jun 18, 2012 12:36:18 GMT -6
"Not particularly 'recognition', not in the sense of wanting to be known. Hmm though it is a comforting thought that I've contributed something of worth to the world... and I suppose it is nice to create something that people seem to like, it makes me feel like I've been more productive with my time. I like what I make and if other people do too well then that's just an, admittedly rather wonderful, added bonus," Isaac considered aloud with a soft shrug of his shoulders at his own conclusion. A slight v creasing his brow, he held a hand up defensively in front of him, "Alright, fine, you don't need anyone's help, sorry I dared to mention it."
"Hannah met Michael!" Isaac exclaimed, glancing back at his brother with an undoubtedly envious look darkening his expression for a moment before he turned his attention back to Steve fully. He was, in that moment, rather relieved that Hannah seemed to be cautious around men... he wasn't quite sure his brother had the same kind of consideration when it came to women he'd just met, however. "That's great," he concluded, quickly adding, "Not that it's any of my business, aside from looking out for a friend of course. It's just Michael tends to be a bit... casual about sleeping with people and that seems incompatible with Hannah somehow." The more he thought about it, the more the possibility of Michael turning on the charm offensive with Hannah and succeeding in bedding her made him feel a little bit sick.
"Oh no, no, my parents are wonderful people, not assholes in the least, but I catch a hint of slight embarrassment whenever they tell other people what I do for a living, it's as though it isn't good enough somehow because I'm not off sucking up to French diplomats or meeting the German ambassador," he let out an exasperated sigh at this. He would never feel good enough for his parents and he'd long craved their approval but by now given up all hope of explicitly receiving it.
Isaac shook his head, "You have no idea how good it feels to hear someone say they couldn't care less about what Michael does for a living," he remarked with a slight laugh at this when Steve directed a rude gesture at Michael. "I don't know, he's never actually showed up to see my work before, he usually just subtly patronises me about it the next day, having seen a photo of the exhibition and my contribution," he explained before looking at the other guy with disdain. "Must you appraise him from behind?" he asked with a slight groan of discomfort at this, "He has a habit of being effortlessly charming but, and I mean no offence in the slightest by this, if there was anyone that could fail to work on it, it could just be you."
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Post by Madeline Dashwood on Jun 19, 2012 12:01:16 GMT -6
Madeline Dashwood sauntered about from one display to the next conversing amiably with everyone. For one Madds knew everyone and if she didn’t know you, you were obviously nobody of any significant value. Madds was wearing an absurdly expensive but devastatingly elegant dress, with her hair pulled up in an elaborate fashion. She looked stunning and absolutely perfect with her designer clutch and Christian Louboutin high heels that made her a remarkable 5 foot 8. It was an art form, how she managed to walk in such tall heels.
Madds approached Isaac and greeted him, not caring whatever it was they had been talking about, “Isaac, dear!” she kissed him on the cheek, “What a lovely surprise to see you here,” she smiled warmly at him, “Your work is absolutely exquisite. Do remind me at the end of the night, but I would love for you to show some of your work at another gallery in London, and that do you see that man over there,” she gestured to the very animated Frenchman in the far right corner, “Robert,” she spoke his name in the French accent, “want to show a few of your photos in his gallery in Paris. He thinks that your work is simply marvelous,” she smiled at him. Then finally acknowledging his friend Steve she held out her hand daintily to him, “I’m sorry how rude of me for not introducing myself, my name is Madeline Dashwood, and you are?”
((ooc: First post with Madds, sorry she is totally interrupting.))
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Post by Steven Cheng-Mariano on Jun 20, 2012 22:10:57 GMT -6
"What about sticking it to someone? Really shoving your success right in their balls? Isaac, if I may be frank with you," Steve started, unnecessarily -- was there a time in which he was not frank, with anyone? "I'd like you a lot better if you were more of a dick." He'd grown bored with trying to convince the man that there was something selfish or ego-driven in his motivations, but was still not entirely satisfied with his conclusion.
"Yeah, I mean, bedding an attractive man... how will she ever recover?" Steve said sarcastically while fishing around his cheese plate with a toothpick. He was of the opinion that everyone was far too protective of Hannah, honestly. "Do yourself a favor and stop caring. Trust me." He already knew far too many details of his mostly female friends' personal lives, despite never asking for it or giving off the impression that he was a person who cared. "Who's sucking off French diplomats?" Steve asked distractedly while trying to get a look a Michael's profile. Admittedly, Steve could stand to be a bit more... present while his friend revealed his deepest vulnerabilities.
Steve then waved his hand around casually. "I'm not 'appraising' anyone, Mr Antiques Roadshow, I just like to 'capture the beauty there is in the world'," he said while grinning widely at Isaac. "I am allergic to charm. I'm attracted to a certain deadness behind the eyes... a real lack of human soul..." he trailed off before making a big show of stepping out of the way when some lady started gushing at Isaac. Steven and Madeline were representing the two extremes of dress sense at that moment: for his part, Steve was in the disheveled hipster uniform of multiple plaids, gratuitous fedora and Cons literally falling apart at every seam.
He let his eyes wander around the room while they talked, only realizing that the woman was holding a hand out to him a few seconds after the fact. "Steve," he answered gruffly. He'd let Isaac explain his presence, if he really wanted to.
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Isaac Lehrer
Pupil
Reticent Artist. Reserved Journalist. Introverted Musician. Deeply Oxymoronic.
Posts: 50
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Post by Isaac Lehrer on Jun 22, 2012 5:03:07 GMT -6
Isaac looked at Steve sceptically as he talked of gloating about success but then couldn’t help but laugh as he claimed he’d like him a lot more if he was more of a dick to people. “Then I’m afraid you’ll be doomed to just tolerating, rather than actually liking, me because I highly doubt I would ever feel comfortable ‘sticking it to someone’. Though it would be quite nice for my family to realise that, actually, I am doing pretty bloody good for myself out of my art and writing and that is a great success because it is, as you said, a hard industry.”
Looking back at the other man he closed his eyes momentarily in a brief flash of despair at his sarcasm, “Please, don’t,” he asked quietly – he honestly couldn’t bear the thought of Michael and Hannah sleeping together, it meant he would never ever stand a chance with her and he sort of suspected he might actually really like her, though he was incredibly inept at showing it. “That’s the problem, Steve, I can’t stop caring,” Isaac said seriously before shaking his head, “If it wasn’t for him being possibly the most heterosexual man you could come across, I wouldn’t be surprised if Michael was. He is supposedly very good at his ‘diplomatic duties’,” he pointed out lightly. His brother was the one subject which could cause Isaac to be less than kind – it was envy, plain and simple, that Michael seemed to have sailed through life so easily whilst Isaac had had to work at it and yet still did not feel comfortable with it or himself.
“Not. Funny.” Isaac shot back as he used one of his own phrases against him, about to change the subject from his brother entirely when suddenly a familiar face appeared. “Madeline, hello!” he said in surprise as she seemed to breeze into the conversation to kiss him on the cheek. He glanced sideways at Steve whose internal thoughts, he imagined, would be pretty interesting right about now given the look he’d gave Madeline. “Ouch, a surprise to see an artist at an art exhibition? I’m not doing that terribly for myself in this business, am I?” he asked, joking easily with her before he smiled, “I doubt I need to add that you’re looking beautiful tonight?” Then he inclined his head in gratitude, “Thank you, that’s very kind of you, I’ll be sure to introduce myself,” he agreed, casting a glance over at Robert curiously. He stepped back slightly as Madeline then turned to Steve, “Terribly rude of us, sorry Steve, this is Madds, well Madeline. You remember Helena? She’s a relative,” he explained how he knew Madeline before, “Steve is attempting to discover a volatile artist amongst this bunch of, let’s face it, rather conservative artist types. I’m not sure how well his quest for tonight is going to go.”
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Michael Lehrer
Pupil
An Angel who did not so much Fall as Saunter Vaguely Downwards
Posts: 55
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Post by Michael Lehrer on Jun 22, 2012 9:27:41 GMT -6
((ooc: Ok he's not brilliant, I apologise, but he's appeared to bother Helena and Owen. Mainly Owen lol.))
Michael found his brother’s photograph and paused, stepping back and gazing at it curiously. Mostly he was trying to work out what his brother’s fascination with Helena Armitage was. True enough, she was stunning, but if this was Isaac’s attempt to subtly agree with that… well it wasn’t very subtle at all, having her in practically all of photography collections. He’d made a promise to himself once that he would never, ever use Legilimency on his own family so he felt reading Isaac’s thoughts, which let’s face it probably weren’t very well guarded, would be just a little bit too intrusive for Michael to justify it to himself. He didn’t make that promise for Isaac’s acquaintances though.
He moved away from the photograph, stopping by a painting by Simone Mathis and regarded it momentarily, not realising who was standing next to him until some minutes later. “Oh, Helena, Owen!” he exclaimed in surprise, smiling as Helena greeted him with her usual kiss on the cheek, “I see you’ve become quite a fixation for my brother,” he remarked lightly but there was a knowing glint in his eye then. Turning to Owen he inclined his head, “Owen. How is life treating you? And your family?” he asked innocently enough for it to just appear as polite interest and nothing more as he took a sip of champagne.
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Post by Steven Cheng-Mariano on Jun 28, 2012 15:32:17 GMT -6
"It's a little funny," Steve said while tilting his head to the side as if considering it. He then squinted at Madeline, deciding that she looked enough like the woman in the photograph, he supposed. "Wow, you guys really are all related, aren't you? Huh. Anyway, there's no such thing as a conservative artist. You're all full-blown nutbags and I mean that in the nicest of ways."
"Fuck," he whispered suddenly before ducking behind Isaac, looking rather ridiculous in that he was 6 foot 6, decked out in plaid and had almost no chance of going undetected. "There's a guy here who was really into me who I never texted back. Hide me!"
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Post by Hannah Schwartz on Jun 28, 2012 18:34:16 GMT -6
"Isaac!" Hannah grinned and shuffled over to the man. She gripped his arm and bounced on her feet, slightly buzzed on wine. And culture! But mostly wine.
"I couldn't find you at first, but then I just looked for the Big Disgruntled Hipster," she explained while rolling her eyes slightly at Steven, who was currently trying to sneak away unnoticed. "But oh wow, I'm so proud! I want to tell everyone here that I know you, is that okay? I'm Hannah, I know him," she laughed while offering her hand to the rather pretty, classy-looking woman Isaac had been speaking to.
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Isaac Lehrer
Pupil
Reticent Artist. Reserved Journalist. Introverted Musician. Deeply Oxymoronic.
Posts: 50
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Post by Isaac Lehrer on Jun 29, 2012 8:35:28 GMT -6
Isaac merely shook his head silently in despair as Steve asserted it was funny. "You're expecting some kind of Desperate Housewives set-up, yes? The Real Housewives of Wizarding Britain?" he suggested in amusement. "Full-blown nutbags you say? Oh, Steve, that's perhaps the nicest thing you've ever said to me," he replied, placing a hand on his chest as though genuinely touched by his fellow writer's comment.
"What?" Isaac asked in confusion as the other bloke tried to duck behind him, "Cease and desist, I lack the 4-5 inches in height I'd need to be a successful screen for you." He glanced around the room in an effort to find Steve's admirer whilst suggesting, "Here's a thought, maybe don't give your phone number to guys you don't actually like or-" He was interrupted as Hannah suddenly appeared, calling his name in greeting. "Hannah," he replied with a smile as she stopped beside him.
He found himself laughing as she mentioned Steve before shaking his head, "Quite understandable. The 'Big Disgruntled Hipster' is still coping rather well, amusing himself as he sees fit," he assured her jokingly. Then, more soberly, "And how are you?"
"Oh wow, Han, thank you," he said softly, genuinely touched that she said she was proud of him. A rather obvious blush of pleasure also crept up the back of his neck as she praised him. "Oh, this is Madeline Dashwood. Madeline, Hannah Schwartz," he made the introductions easily, still beaming perhaps a little too much because of Hannah's approval of his work.
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Post by Steven Cheng-Mariano on Jun 30, 2012 9:45:20 GMT -6
"I can't control who I give my number to when I'm drunk!" Steve hissed while peering over Isaac's shoulder. "What am I supposed to say, 'Thanks for liking me for some unexplained reason, but I'm a selfish, damaged ass incapable of feeling anything for anyone?' ... Actually, that's quite good. I should make that my outgoing message."
He then darted out from behind Isaac, grabbed as much cheese and wine as he could carry and slunk off behind a large sculpture. "Catch you guys later, okay?"
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