A/N: I have always found Neyla to be a great character. No, I'm not saying I liked her or anything, I'm just saying she was a good character. So here's a story, just for her.

This story is more in my comfort zone of writing. The action that takes place in Definition was meant to mimic the Sly Cooper style, to try out new things for fun. This is a side project, something to do late at night on winter break.

Saris and Bangles


The streets of New Delhi were crowded day in and day out. Every day was like the last as the rickshaws would creak along as the wealthy would fan themselves and look down upon the poor.

One of said poor was a small purple tiger cub. India's Caste system told her she was of inferior blood, and it told her to accept her fate and make the most of it. However, she turned a deaf ear towards it. Though young, she had already decided what she wanted in life. Everyday she would watch the Brahmans ride by in their rickshaws in the blazing heat, and every day she would envy them.

Oh, how jealous she would get, pining after their elegant saris and their jewel-encrusted bangles. She wanted those for herself. One day, she would be riding in that rickshaw, wearing those saris and clasping on those bangles. And she was frustrated; she knew she never would accomplish that dream.

Years later, at the age of eighteen, she decided enough was enough. She would pull a drab brown cloak over her head and hold it tight. Not only did it hide her plain, ordinary sari, it helped to blind her from the rickshaws and those who rode in them. Her life was already complicated enough without the jealous daydreaming. She stopped looking up and began looking forward to the future, to what would be, and not the silly fantasy she entertained herself with. She had already wasted her childhood lusting over what she couldn't have. The rest of her life would be devoted to getting all that she could.

It was time to take control of her life. Her parents were long dead, for disease had taken them around her thirteenth birthday. She lost the little shabby place she called home. Armed with the money her parents had squirreled away, she set out, not even thinking to look back.

Nobody expected her to survive as long as she did. She couldn't marry, as she couldn't provide a good enough dowry for anyone to even consider her, but she never planned to wed in the first place. Why should she get married? She'd be back where she started, tied down in poverty and wistfully watching the rich women in their pretty saris wearing those shining bangles ride by in those squeaking rickshaws. She would have none of that.

But a lone woman by herself in India could not be expected to go far. Culture dictated a person's choices were limited, especially if they were a woman. She basically had three choices: marry, join a temple, or sell herself to a brothel. The tiger would have none of that. No. She had given up on beautiful saris and exotic bangles, but she was still determined to support herself, without having to stoop as low as to give up her freedom.

Was that even possible? Opportunity was slim. She could try to get a job as a seamstress, but she never learned how to sew. All she had was a small bag full of rupees and herself.

Growing up on the streets taught her how to be tricky and to be creative. She would have to use these skills to her advantage, but how? She figured it would be good to think it over a meal, so she entered the nearest restaurant and ordered the cheapest item on the menu.

When the waiter returned, he was carrying the wrong dish. When the tiger complained, he quickly voiced his apologies, saying that he was told to deliver the food to the "wealthy stranger." Seeing her wrapped up in her brown cloak and her lovely face, he assumed she was the aforementioned patron. He then told her she had a lovely voice, and he figured she could easily pass herself off as a member of the upper caste. Because she was such a charming person, he said, and to make up for the mishap, she would receive a ten percent discount on her bill.

Charming. The word echoed in the she-tiger's mind. Did that waiter really mean what he said? Could she really try to pass herself off as one of the wealthy? After she had eaten her fill and paid her bill, she headed straight for the nearest seamstress shop and bought the most expensive clothes she afford, plus a few trinkets as well. It cost nearly all the money she had left, and she could only buy a single outfit with and a few pieces of jewelry. It wasn't quite the Brahman material she had wanted in her childhood days, but it would have to do. She washed her jet black hair and put on her new clothes, tossing aside the old, ragged cloak she had been wearing.

She looked stunning, definitely like a member of one of the higher castes. And she made herself known, boldly walking the streets of New Delhi with an assured stride. Even the few who knew her did not recognize her. It wasn't long before she was the talk of the town, and some of the rich were beginning to consider her a potential new addition to the family.

And that posed a problem. Someone was bound to come to talk terms of marriage, and to do so would mean to speak to her family, of which she had none. The last thing she needed was to be discovered as a fraud, and so, she devised a plan. She would put that charming voice of hers to use, striking a deal with a local crime lord.

Meanwhile, her dreams returned to her. But they no longer consisted of lovely saris and sparkling bangles. That dream was now reachable. She wanted more. Her newest goal was to get into a prestigious school to further advance her ambition.

It wasn't long before an ideal family came along. They wanted the her to marry their son. By turning away from the common people, they had no idea that her "family" was really an outlaw, and that they were going to make a great mistake. The crime lord promised them a hefty dowry, one even a family of their status would consider large, and he told them they could have it, and his "daughter" if they allowed her to attend an upscale British university first before marriage. An agreement was made, and the girl found herself on an airplane headed for England. She was given a generous amount of money, which she used to pay off an admissions inspector at the school to gain entry.

Once inside, she used every trick she knew to get by her classes. To one student, she promised a date for every month he did her homework for her. To another, she said she would score him a job with a businessman she claimed was a family friend, if he told her the answers to the exams in advance. And to yet another, she said she would give a large reward for every project he did for her.

Everything ran smoothly for her school career. She feigned sadness when a letter arrived saying her to-be husband and his family were slain and everything, down to the last rupee, was taken. In truth, she had sold them out before leaving, she couldn't have cared less about them. They were one of the ones who looked down on her when she was a child, making her hate them so for their saris and bangles. But now she had more than that. She was about to graduate, and she was well on her way to having bigger and better things.

And then, it happened. Her scheme fell apart when a professor began to notice the similarities between her "work" and those of the classmates she had roped into working for her, and she was caught. She was so close! She was only a month away from graduation, and this had to happen.

Her dreams! Her ambition! It was all slipping away so fast as she saw the police cars drive up to the university campus. The saris and the bangles even drifted away from her.

The officer in charge of the case wanted to meet her in person. He looked her up and down, as if he was sizing her up. His assistant, a rather uptight-looking vixen, seemed to try to pierce into her with cold brown eyes.

Finally, the commanding officer seemed to be finished both examining her and reading the report. Needless to say, he was completely impressed. He explained to her that they had never had a case like this before, and he would guess that she would be convicted of fraud and sentenced to jail time. But then he smiled, and said there was a way she could avoid that, if she agreed to become a police officer. The tiger did not like the idea of becoming a cop, but she realized that this was only a minor setback. She could rebuild. Start from scratch, and perhaps being a police officer could be an advantage.

And so she accepted the offer, and became a constable in Interpol. She successfully avoided prison, but what was she to do now? She vowed to herself that she would start over again, but what could she do?

Somebody came to answer her. Interpol's best jail warden and criminal psychiatrist, a spider known as the Contessa. This Contessa took notice of her skills, and said she knew somebody who might be able to help her. In the dead of night, the two of them slipped into the darkness where they waited outside of a London opera house. They waited for the show to end, and they were greeted by a small parrot, riding in a strange mechanical contraption. They conversed, and they bargained, and they eventually came to a deal. She would work for him and his group, and he would give her everything she ever wanted and more.

But as she listened to the parrot's plans, to which was to steal the parts of some gigantic metal bird, piece them together, and achieve immortality, she felt the claws of jealousy digging into her spine. This was what she wanted. To be a goddess and reign over a kingdom. She would not be the top of the social system. She would be beyond it, in a class all by herself.. Nothing could compare to her, and only then would she be satisfied. The bird promised her everything she wanted and more. But what she wanted was growing by the second, and she realized that he couldn't possibly give her everything.

So she would just have to take it for herself.

Before they parted ways, the parrot stopped her, realizing that he didn't know what her name was.

"My name is Neyla, and I will stop at nothing to get what I want."