Balconies, vents, ladders, pipes: the Royal Hotel was a jungle gym. Each room was effortlessly elegant, even so much as getting close will make anyone feel rich, classy, and of royalty, be it for any reason or occupation that person might have. A block away from it on ground level, Maeve inched towards the rear of the building with suave and unyielding ecstaticism. She proudly beamed at the pride it would bring to herself as who on this planet could match the feat she was to complete. Glistening a bold orange, the lights at the top became the indicator for the cat burglar's success. Stories and stories high, it was almost the largest building in the entire Trade District. Closer and closer Maeve approached, and taller and taller the tower seemed - making Maeve dubious. It was too near for her to bail now, her strength gathering as she approached the maintenance ladder behind the Hotel. With a preparatory breath, she ascended.

The passing breeze was insignificant in the district, hardly totalling itself when next to the countless concrete buildings that constantly surrounded the girl for as long as she could remember. For the beginning of her ascent, this thought never crossed her mind, nor did the height, at least not yet. The support beams under the balconies made great monkey bars, and the external access pipes made for good checkpoints for her to catch her breath at every wind gusting corner. She ascended the building like a spiral staircase, slowly rising like a winding jack-in-a-box. For the first hour or two, reaching the middle of the building's height, after she got over the routine of each patterned story, a passing breeze attacked her, forcing her coat to wave against her, barely staying attached to her. She clutched the pip above her, fearful and distraught, hugging the wall until the breeze ended.

"Hey!" A guest on the balcony above her called. "What are you doing up there? That's dangerous, get down!" Maeve ignored him, pleaded that he wouldn't alert anyone, and felt the breeze calm down against her skin. This freedom would likely be the only chance she had, so she immediately continued. After ten more minutes of withstanding the relentless wind she accidentally took a quick glance down. A needle gnashed at her lungs; the height was something she had seen but not in this vulnerable state. She froze, biting her lips, and closing her eyes with the firmest grip, but the girl eventually steadied, and continued up the tower. She was nearly at the top, she could see the deluxe suite with its orange ambient light - the gates of heaven, a trial won, a full recovery. One more wrap around and she'd hide in the open top, massive balcony ahead where an entire story was dedicated to their most honored guest. One more jump! Just steadily prepare and-

"Need a hand, cherie?" The tiger's paw opened like a door, but she was ill-impressed by it, staying on the pipe parallel to the wall. A gust of wind thrashed her once-defiant face as her grip strengthened against the wall. Closing her eyes she waited for the wind to end, but it never ended; instead, a fierce grip caught her shirt collar, and with a mighty heave she was thrown up into the air, the ground hundreds of feet below as she screamed in shock. "There we go!" Tiberius calmly proclaimed as he caught her by the shirt collar, now levelled with him, caught in his grasp.

"Ahh!" Maeve retorted. "Let me go!" She scrambled to try and wiggle free, but in her efforts another powerful gust of wind gathered, forcing her coat off of her body. The coat jostled in the wind, free and flowing near the ledge. "I need that! No!" Her hands reached in vain as the coat gusted off the ledge.

Maeve's muscles relaxed, but her brain did not. Blank, powerless, she snuck a dagger from her pocket, hiding it from the strange creature behind her.

"What's this?" With one quick action, the warrior swiped the dagger from her hand and Maeve started struggling again as the curious beast inspected it in bewilderment. "One of you little toys, alley cat?"

Maeve didn't answer, she kept struggling in vain to break free from Tiberius's grasp. From the looks of it, Tiberius was in his pajamas, shirtless with his eyebrows up, but his eyes were shot - emboldened with intrigue, closely inspecting the dagger. She scratched her nails at Tiberius, his stories-high height having Maeve a couple feet from the ground.

Tiberius shook Maeve in anger. "Relax!" he yelled, trying to get her to stop squirming. Eventually, the girl grew tired, especially without her coat, and her body began to understand the situation.

"My, my," Tiberius started. "You are one strange little street rat."

Maeve's lips sealed.

Tiberius continued, slightly perturbed by her stubbornness. "You know…" He examined her, intently intrigued by her appearance. "I'm as different to you as you are to them." Tiberius also sported a French accent, although his was more refined and authentic, unlike the contrivatory nature of Maeve's annunciation.

"I think you are… or were… tampering with something no one like yourself should tamper with…" Tiberius looked at the silent Maeve's tigron eyes and squinted. "You certainly have our ambition, we tigrons. But you also have their slimy, smelly, filthy, snivelry, super small size!" he ended his comment with a sly giggle.

A knock on the door jolted Tiberius's head towards it, immediately processing that comment. "Magistrate Guard. We have multiple reports, Tiberius. May we come in?"

Tiberius looked away from the door at the girl's now petrified expression, and no words escaped his determinate mouth, sitting still in deep thought.

"We are coming in in five seconds," The Guard reinforced, and numerous footsteps scattered behind the elegant wooden door.

The five seconds slipped away without action. Guards barged into the room, two sporting crossbows and one in the center sporting a heavy assault rifle, all trained at the two strangers in the center of the room.

"Stand down!" The center guard set his arms at the tiger. "Let the girl go or we will shoot."

"Whoah, whoah, gentlemen," Tiberius astutely snorted. "I caught the disturbance - this little street rat - fair and square. She's mine.."

"And so she must be punished for her deeds, tigron," the guard finished. "Now let the girl go-"

Blowdarts echoed the chamber, each landing on every target as the three guards collapsed, and Tiberius let a fierce roar upon the dart's impact, loosening his grip on Maeve's shirt collar, setting her free.

Tiberius's face snarled as he plucked the dart from his neck. Only dazed, Tiberius's vision clouded, but he could hear the cries of multiple people around him.

"This way, come on!" A feminine voice danced in Tiberius's head with no clue as to the direction.

"Here, take this!" A masculine voice echoed as well, and Tiberius's senses recovered, eager to recapture the little brat.

"It won't fit!" Maeve yelled, panicking.

"Just grab hold of me," the masculine voice called. "We have to go… now!"

A man was near the edge of the balcony wearing some kind of backpack, along with a taller woman holding a strange object standing near with the same backpack. Maeve was standing right behind the man.

"Wait!" The woman called holding out the object. "You dropped this." Sure enough, Maeve eagerly accepted the strange mystical return of her long coat, rushing to put it back on.

"How…." she stuttered, "What? Thank you, but, how?"

"I'll explain later, now grab onto him," The woman barked as Tiberius primally pounced towards them. "Now go!"

With a gentle shove Maeve hung onto the waist of the man as he was playfully pushed off the cliff by the woman, who gleefully followed. The air rushed past them and the three of them plummeted down the Hotel faster and faster until the man pulled a parachute halfway down their descent along with the woman.

"Hang on real tight," the man assured Maeve. "Calm yourself, I'm going to have to make some evasive maneuvers."

Sure enough, crossbows started firing upon the two parachutes, and the man jolted his control release to dodge the arrows and take cover behind a building; however, in this quick maneuver the girl started losing her grip.

"Hey, hey!" Maeve fruitlessly struggled. "I'm slipping, I'm slipping!" Her cries exacerbated the man, and the girl slipped off the man and began plummeting hundreds of feet right in the middle of the street.