#calebgoldstein

Ostensibly, this wasn’t a Death Eater mission. Regardless of any potential usefulness to the Dark Lord, all that really meant was that Nic didn’t wear his mask. He covered his face, of course- he wasn’t a moron- but it was a simple black cloth mask pulled up over his nose, blending with the rest of the completely black ensemble. 

He traipsed through the darkness of the museum exhibit, plucking things here and there he found interesting, knocking over display stands, setting things on fire, while the others did whatever they considered to be their fair share of work. He’d expected that all resistance and wards had already been taken care of, so he was completely surprised to simply walk in on Caleb Goldstein, of all people. Hearing the artist had spent a wakeful night in a cell because he’d been too stupid to avoid Nic’s machinations had been highly amusing, but Nic honestly hadn’t thought much of him since. 

“Incarcerous,” he snapped, wand aimed at Caleb before the other could react. 

Not that he actually cared, but Cas was bored and certain things were attention catching. A guy sat up with an easel happened to be one of those things. “How about I sit down and let you do your thing and I try to figure out what has that look on your face? If I get it right, you have a drink with me.” @calebgoldstein​

@calebgoldstein​

Although Han had spent most of his evening happily at Dotty’s side, they had separated some. She’d happily taken rest breaks while he danced with a few people who had asked, and now that once of her son’s old friends had recognized her and asked for a dance to catch up, Han was happily doing the same. He stood near the edge of the dance floor with a glass of champagne in hand as Dotty and the man slowly meandered around. Tonight was supposed to be about lust and romance, but Han was having a fantastic time.

Though, Han mused to himself as he caught sight of a familiar face crouched down over a nearby table scribbling away at something, perhaps lust wasn’t completely off the table. Just for some friendly conversation.

“Always an artist at work?” he teased as he approached Caleb before realizing the man was writing and not drawing. “Ah, a note. To whom if it’s not a misstep to ask?”

She didn’t get it. She just didn’t. She’d gone to the Bad Dragon and only left mostly more confused, and then she’d been distracted by Lucian’s hands and hair even though he’d been an active annoyance when they met at the cafe. And now she’d absently witnessed an entire interaction which left her completely baffled. Normally she didn’t care about people, why did they what they did, where they were from, what they wanted. It didn’t interest her and as far as she was concerned, they just weren’t all that important. But now that she’d had her attention drawn to her glaring ignorance in certain subjects, she couldn’t let it go until she understood it. 

“How did you do that?” she demanded, abandoning her coffee and sitting down across from the slightly older man who’d just met a woman who seemed like a complete stranger, talked for perhaps four minutes, and somehow wound up with her contact information pressed into his palm and her retreating with a wide smile. It just didn’t make sense, and the more she turned over the interaction in her head, the more frustrated she got by her lack of understanding. 

Being surrounded by couples was not the part of Valentine’s day that bothered Vanja. No, it was more so the attitude that people seemed to have around the holiday. As if it were some grand day to proclaim your undying love for whomever you’re with at the time, especially when that relationship could very well end the next day. Not that they were counting on anyone’s to, or wishing it, but it was a possibility. 

Eyeing the crowd of people there, Vanja was pleasantly surprised to see a familiar face that they were intrigued by. A half smile tugging at their lip, they sauntered over to them. “How fortunate it is to meet you here. Long time no see,” they greeted, the smile growing a bit more wide.

@calebgoldstein​

Lucius hadn’t precisely enjoyed sitting for a portrait- that long under anyone’s scrutiny was enough to make him shiver with discomfort- but Caleb Goldstein had been a professional about it, and Lucius couldn’t deny a certain level of anticipation to see the finished product. It was about time he and Narcissa had their likeness hanging in the manor for generations to come. It also gave him the perfect excuse to take down the last portrait of his parents. 

He stepped into the studio and glanced around expectantly, posture stiff. “Mr. Goldstein?”

Replacing them was the right thing to do in this situation, but Tristan didn’t know anything about art and felt a little lost in the supply store as he looked around. All he owed Vanja was a copy of what he’d broken, but maybe if it was a better version, Vanja wouldn’t leave it around where it could get broken in the first place? 

“Never thought I’d see you on this side of the pond.”

         There is a nervousness in her voice that Hilda cannot quite get rid of. Perhaps it’s because she has a glass of pumpkin juice in her hand instead of white wine. She tucked a perfectly curled strand of hair behind her ear, lips pressed together. Hilda had invited Caleb over after finding out that he was in the region, it was stunning to think that something had compelled him here. A smile began to grace her lips though as she moved over to the couch to take a seat. “Did you come to paint London’s dreary skylines and smog ? ” An eyebrow arched and her tone was nearly playful, but there was a question that lingered toward the back of her throat. She couldn’t ask it yet. It wasn’t the right time, but almost. 

        Given the area that she had grown up in her accommodations were modest, but still respectable to the average set of company. There was a remembrance of summer romances and the letters that she would send of news of the war. It was never an encouragement to come and see the cause for himself, but more so common conversation between old friends. Her large eyes sparkled as she leaned forward to him. “Tell me, what bring you here ? Not that I’m not happy you’re here -- I’m elated. But the cause of your journey has piqued my curiosity. ”