Okay... Here's another thing I wrote a couple years ago, back by popular demand (well actually, someone on another site asked about it and a friend encouraged me to post it-but two people is enough for me) and under a new name, with minimal editing. I'm not sure what my vision for it back then was, or even if I had a vision for it, but I'm gonna take it and run with it. So here we are. Criticism, questions, comments, opinions, and flames are all very welcome.

My name is Drew Blackstone, and the world is against me. I can't say that I blame it. In my fourteen years of life, I've done some things I'm not proud of. For example, I get by on thievery. Not the most noble way to live. But it beats letting myself or my absol starve, so that's how we live.

I'm just a thieving low-life.

And our story starts here, with the seemingly routine robbery that changed everything. I was standing with my back against the outer wall of a building, in a sort of alley, trying to blend in and hoping no one noticed my presence. I was waiting, preparing to cause a distraction and run when I heard my signal. And I knew the perfect distraction.

And then I heard my signal- the usual shout of, "Thief!"

Remember that absol I mentioned a minute ago? I spotted her then, rushing out of the nearest building with a small loaf of bread held carefully in her jaws.

Quick as a flash, I darted out to aid my partner in crime. There was a smallish cart nearby, which had been pulled to its location by a rapidash. Spooked by the sudden chaos, the fire horse pokemon reared up and bolted, knocking over the cart it had been hitched to in the process. Some hapless guy then ran after what he might or might not have realized is one of the fastest Pokemon out there. And did I mention what was in the cart?

Flour. Somehow it managed to go everywhere, making quite the distraction if we ran now. But we could do so much better.

"Razor Wind!" I commanded the absol. "But don't hurt anyone!"

Hey, just because I'm a thieving low-life doesn't mean I don't have morals.

With a toss of her head, she flung the bread in my direction and I caught it with ease. She then launched her attack at the cloud of flour, which somehow created this awesome flour-nado I can't even begin to describe.

We took a second to admire the chaos we had created. And then we ran.

Apparently the poor rapidash got its reins caught in some trees, and the guy I guessed was its trainer was attempting to detangle the panicking fire-type. He shot us a glare as we ran past him, which I guess was understandable given his current situation.

We eventually came to our current preferred place to shelter, a peaceful little clearing in the woods where a creek flowed nearby. Finally letting myself relax, I slumped against a tree and took a moment to catch my breath.

"Nicely done, Angel." I praised once I had just about gotten my breath back.

I tried not to use the nickname in public. I refused to give the people searching for me one more incriminating detail, nor ruin my "pint-sized tough guy" image. But when we were alone, I could be as affectionate to my angelic little accomplice as I wanted.

She licked my unscarred cheek, and I ruffled her neck fur in return. Then I turned my attention to the food we had stolen. It wasn't much, but it would be enough for tonight. Bowing my head, I silently thanked Victini for taking our side. I divided the loaf in half, then split one half between the two of us.

We ate quickly and in silence, fortunately undisturbed this time. A lot of rookie trainers frequented this place, so it was only logical that we would sometimes run into them. And then the "our eyes met, let's fight!" pestering would start. Fortunately most were pushovers, easy to scare or fight off, and Angel enjoyed the occasional battle.

Presently, Angel curled up beside me and put her head on my lap. She had been with me for a year now, and had grown from a helpless pup to a fierce and loyal partner, and not a day went by that I wasn't grateful to have her by my side. The sky had grown darker, and we enjoyed a peaceful moment together as we gazed up at the stars.

"I don't say it often enough, Angel," I murmured, "but I am so proud of you."

She purred, and indicator that she liked that statement. And on that heartwarming note, we said nothing more before letting sleep take us.

Little did we know that our lives were about to be turned upside-down, and nothing would ever be the same again.