[Drabble] - Intolerance (AtoMizu; PG-13)
Apr. 19th, 2008 03:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
crookedspoonFandom: Prince of Tennis
Characters: Atobe, Mizuki
Word Count: 240
Warning: Mention of drugs! D:
Notes: Way. Too. Short.
With a sigh, Mizuki flung down another novel onto the mahagony coffee table. The third inside an hour. "Why is it so hard to find contemporary literature that does not recycle ideas of old one way or another?"
Atobe's pen stopped noting down stylistic devices on Platon's Lysis, as he elaborately gestured with his hand. "Have you ever considered taking up the art of writing yourself?"
Mizuki did not snort, he made an elegant yet dismissive nasal sound and twirled a lock of hair around his forefinger. "Not the art, but the medium. The only thing I could make work though, would be a book on science and those are as dry as the desert in summer and already clutter up the bookshelves. No, it would have to be something new, but how do you achieve a nonorthodox mindset unless you trip?"
Atobe's lips quirked into one of those condescending smiles he seemed to have a whole repertoire of. "Drug-induced hallucinations do not necessarily free the boundaries of your mind and allow you to realize that in actuality the whole of humanity are just different manifestations of the same consciousness."
With every word, the bewilderment on Mizuki's face became more transparent. "Where did you get that from? To realize that we all share one and the same consciousness? Please, I'd rather not be associated with intolerant idiots who can't make up their own minds, not to mention a collective one."
Characters: Atobe, Mizuki
Word Count: 240
Warning: Mention of drugs! D:
Notes: Way. Too. Short.
With a sigh, Mizuki flung down another novel onto the mahagony coffee table. The third inside an hour. "Why is it so hard to find contemporary literature that does not recycle ideas of old one way or another?"
Atobe's pen stopped noting down stylistic devices on Platon's Lysis, as he elaborately gestured with his hand. "Have you ever considered taking up the art of writing yourself?"
Mizuki did not snort, he made an elegant yet dismissive nasal sound and twirled a lock of hair around his forefinger. "Not the art, but the medium. The only thing I could make work though, would be a book on science and those are as dry as the desert in summer and already clutter up the bookshelves. No, it would have to be something new, but how do you achieve a nonorthodox mindset unless you trip?"
Atobe's lips quirked into one of those condescending smiles he seemed to have a whole repertoire of. "Drug-induced hallucinations do not necessarily free the boundaries of your mind and allow you to realize that in actuality the whole of humanity are just different manifestations of the same consciousness."
With every word, the bewilderment on Mizuki's face became more transparent. "Where did you get that from? To realize that we all share one and the same consciousness? Please, I'd rather not be associated with intolerant idiots who can't make up their own minds, not to mention a collective one."
