letter of complaint | open
So, there was a line between being nasty and bringing justice-- at least Ace felt so. He toed that line frequently (more frequently than he perhaps wanted to admit), but things had just worked out that way-- sometimes, bad things happened and nobody said anything; not that Ace did either, but he was always watching, always observing. Always remembering. On more than one occasion the revenge (more like heavenly justice) came swiftly, hours to days later than the actual crime-- not that he fancied himself much of a prankster, really. Still, Ace though that some people really should start learning to deal with their consequences.
Anyway, did writing an angry letter to the author of the supplementary potion book they had been suggested in class toe that line? Maybe, since Ace was most definitely questioning his intelligence in about three sentences-- which, honestly, the guy should be used to, since Ace had written him about four of those letters already. None of which received any response, thank you very much.
Huffing, Ace pushed the scroll away from himself a little, eyeing the words warily. Huh. Maybe he had worded that a bit too strongly... With an annoyed sigh, he pulled the scroll closer, scrabbled away the offending word and replacing it with something a tad bit more gentle. There. I still think you’re an idiot, but now you won’t notice as quickly. Satisfied, he turned to his lecture notes again, making a few corrections here and there to the recent potion they had been working on in class-- as homework, they had to pick a few potions from the book in question, study them and be prepared to create them within class when called upon. Ace, naturally, had taken it upon himself to improve the ones that offended him the most, going for an elegant, efficient solution rather than the one presented in the book. “There, now you’re all pretty as well,” he muttered to the piece of paper, finishing off his notes with a florish.
Yes, he was sitting in the library talking to himself with four different potions books stacked around him, ignoring the looks it got him in response. Really, he had been doing this for six years. You’d think people were used to it by now.
