[ WP ] You are a super genius vigilante who always has a plan for everything and can constantly out think anyone . One day you meet your match : a petty thief who 's gifted with random luck and clumsiness . You have made it your sole duty to take him down . . . Somehow .

`` Sorry!'' he calls out, offering a grin as he stumbles from the scene of the heist. *My* heist. Everything was planned perfectly. I was about to shake the jeweler's hand, slipping off his diamond ring that would feed me for the next two years. 
 
 But of course, somehow, this blond-haired, wide-eyed beginner who has n't stolen a thing in his life, has just stumbled into the jeweler. And now his ring is missing. 
 
 It becomes suddenly clear to me that he was n't apologizing to the jeweler. 
 
 Revenge. Step one, watch him silently. Make sure he never knows you exist. Learn how he does what he does, then use it against him. 
 
 One problem. Neither of us know what he's doing. 
 
 I watch him through an angled mirror, positioned so that he ca n't see me from 98 % of the viewpoints he could take on as he wanders aimlessly though the streets. 
 
 He seems to be performing a heist, but there's no exit plan, no tactic. There are guards at the four cross sections of the street, hundreds of eye witnesses, and frankly the heist he's attempting is just impractical. he baker does n't even seem to *care* that his entire third shelf is suddenly empty, and a man with a bandana leaking croissants is meandering through the town square. 
 
 The baker starts to call out as he *finally* notices. Now they're both running. Where on earth is he... 
 
 `` *MY BAD! *'' he calls out, stumbling through the hay and landing face down in front of me. `` Croissant?'' he looks up at me with a sincere grin. So much for step one. 
 
 `` What *the hell* do you think you're doing?'' I hiss, replacing the bricks I have carefully arranged as the guards run past us, oblivious to my well-calculated hiding place. 
 
 `` Are you... Were you watching me?'' he exclaims, as though I owe *him* some sort of explanation. `` You were watching me! Oh my it seems I have a fan..'' 
 
 `` Do n't flatter yourself,'' I mutter, `` You just got lucky.'' 
 
 `` Oh, I know,'' he says cheerily, brushing himself off and exiting the lookout station I crafted. 
 
 `` You *know? *'' I inquire, standing up with him. 
 
 `` Oh yeah, sure. Life owes me a favor,'' he replies. He jumps on crates of fruit, balancing precariously but never falling. `` Here, walk with me. Life is easier when you're with me.'' He extends his arm to me and I reluctantly take it. `` Name?'' 
 
 `` Vivian. Vivian Lastier.'' 
 
 `` Peter Valdrin.'' We're about ten feet off the ground. I've learned every nook and cranny in the village. I know each shopkeeper's pattern of setting up, closing down. All of their schedules, loves, hates, tells, and secrets. I could close my eyes and tell you where every thief, merchant, politician, and enemy is at this exact second. 
 
 `` None of that matters, though,'' Peter comments lightly. 
 
 ``... Excuse me?'' I exclaim. 
 
 `` I know what you're thinking. You want to know how I do it,'' he sings. I'm stunned for a moment. He runs his fingers through his hair and looks back at me. `` I've seen you around. People say you're real clever. It does n't matter though.'' 
 
 `` Why not?'' I look up at him as he extends his hand and pulls me onto the roof. 
 
 `` Life does n't give a damn what you plan.'' 
 
 He chuckles softly, but I hear something bitter behind it. His hand is still laced in mine. 
 
 `` It's true,'' he continues, `` That's why I've stopped trying.'' 
 
 We both lay back against the roof. Being up here is illegal, but I feel myself enjoying his attitude towards life. 
 
 `` You'd make a good partner, you know,'' I comment. 
 
 Peter turns his head towards me, `` We'd be an unstoppable team.'' 
 
 `` You're right,'' We both sit up and look down at the town below us. They do n't stand a chance. 
 
 He laughs, `` Lucky and clever.'' We look at each other for a moment and shake hands. We hear the guards yelling. 
 
 Peter puts his arm around me for a moment and whispers, `` I'll find you when I do.'' 
 
 Ungracefully, he leans off the roof, falling twenty feet down. `` Peter!'' I call out, looking down in a panic as he plummets. Of course, he lands perfectly in a pile of soft hay. He winks and disappears into the crowd. 
 
 I walk along the edge of the rooftop for a moment longer before climbing down, prepared to let Peter find me. 
 
 I see an empty door with a weak lock along the side of the road, and decide to give my lockpicking skills a little refreshment. 
 
 Reaching in my pocket to retrieve the picks, my heart stops for a second. I look around with a mixture of anger and amusement. 
 
 That son of a bitch stole my wallet.
