lar_laughs (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lar_laughs) wrote2006-02-17 07:18 pm
lar_laughs) wrote2006-02-17 07:18 pm
Art is... (PG-13, Ravenclaw Boys)
Title: Art is...
Date/Challenge: 17 – How many great mysteries are there in life? at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
30_hath
Character/Pairing: Ravenclaw Boys
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 391
“Art should move you,” Anthony insisted, using his hands to emphasize his words when he wasn't pulling off his shirt. “If the color palette is dull or the subject matter boring, it’s not really art.”
Michael put his pillow over his head and tried to drown out the conversation his roommates had been having since they’d come back from Hogsmeade. It had been a simple portrait, hanging from the wall at Zonko’s that started this all. If it had to be violence that ended it, so be it.
“You’re insane, Ant. Art doesn’t have to be beautiful to be art,” Terry insisted, his voice raising a couple of octaves in frustration so that it was uncomfortable to listen to. “The whole idea of art is to expand people’s minds. For instance, that portrait was-“
“It was a hunk of chocolate!” Michael roared, throwing his pillow toward where he thought Anthony might be in the gloomy room. “It wasn’t art. It was a snack! No mystery why people were spellbound by it. They were hungry!”
“Art can be a snack,” Terry persisted, his face flushed with the emotions of the debate he’d already been through. He and Anthony were staring at their violent roommate, both easing away from any other missiles he might decide to throw. Because he wasn’t smart enough to keep his mouth shut, he continued, “It just needs to-“
“Shut up!” Michael growled. “I don’t care about art. It’s past midnight. None of us care about art. If you want to talk about art, take the conversation somewhere else.” He emphasized his words with anything he found that would carry across the room. His shoes, his Potions book, a pair of socks that had found their mate and wouldn’t let go of each other.
“We’ve got to start making sure he gets coffee all day long,” he heard Anthony mutter to Terry as they exited the room of sleepy boys. “He’s so much more happy after he has a cup.”
“Or maybe a couple more kisses from Susan,” Terry answered loud enough that Michael knew he was supposed to hear. The boy was smart enough to duck on his way out the door. It wasn’t a strong spell but it took a big chunk out of the door and left the room smelling of charred wood and singed hair.
Date/Challenge: 17 – How many great mysteries are there in life? at
30_hathCharacter/Pairing: Ravenclaw Boys
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 391
“Art should move you,” Anthony insisted, using his hands to emphasize his words when he wasn't pulling off his shirt. “If the color palette is dull or the subject matter boring, it’s not really art.”
Michael put his pillow over his head and tried to drown out the conversation his roommates had been having since they’d come back from Hogsmeade. It had been a simple portrait, hanging from the wall at Zonko’s that started this all. If it had to be violence that ended it, so be it.
“You’re insane, Ant. Art doesn’t have to be beautiful to be art,” Terry insisted, his voice raising a couple of octaves in frustration so that it was uncomfortable to listen to. “The whole idea of art is to expand people’s minds. For instance, that portrait was-“
“It was a hunk of chocolate!” Michael roared, throwing his pillow toward where he thought Anthony might be in the gloomy room. “It wasn’t art. It was a snack! No mystery why people were spellbound by it. They were hungry!”
“Art can be a snack,” Terry persisted, his face flushed with the emotions of the debate he’d already been through. He and Anthony were staring at their violent roommate, both easing away from any other missiles he might decide to throw. Because he wasn’t smart enough to keep his mouth shut, he continued, “It just needs to-“
“Shut up!” Michael growled. “I don’t care about art. It’s past midnight. None of us care about art. If you want to talk about art, take the conversation somewhere else.” He emphasized his words with anything he found that would carry across the room. His shoes, his Potions book, a pair of socks that had found their mate and wouldn’t let go of each other.
“We’ve got to start making sure he gets coffee all day long,” he heard Anthony mutter to Terry as they exited the room of sleepy boys. “He’s so much more happy after he has a cup.”
“Or maybe a couple more kisses from Susan,” Terry answered loud enough that Michael knew he was supposed to hear. The boy was smart enough to duck on his way out the door. It wasn’t a strong spell but it took a big chunk out of the door and left the room smelling of charred wood and singed hair.