There were too many clones now. Sitting wrapped in a hobo's clothing near one of the local bars, the hooded figure scowled at the gaurds passing by without a second thought to the poor thing asking for change with a dirty gloved hand up. They didn't see the glow of green eyes below, the soft strands of silver hair in dirty clumps cut short to hide the likeliness. She was a clone - in fact, the only female ever to be sucessfully made. So close to the original it was insane. She was also one of their highly kept secrets. Well, until she escaped.

She had searched for him so long. She killed many of the clones she came across. She knew that the day she found him (she didn't think he was dead - he couldn't be!), the real him. So it was with an interest that she had seen the man come into town the other day, his fight against the gaurds. The fear in his own eyes at what he had done - she had forgotten him then. Another just recently awoken probably - another geneticly altered test to become the best that would just falter and fall into the insanity again. You think that they would learn after the first few hundreds that the gene was defective in itself. They should have stopped at her - after the brutality - the training, she had only turned and bit the hand that fed her.

Only when he showed up behind that big-breasted freak did she take notice. The sly words used - of course he wouldn't notice some half-drunken (apparently) hobo stumbling by, reeking of trash and discarded waste. The head was kept low and the familiar presence would be faltering at best - though she knew it was safe enough and was stupid enough to attempt it to get a glance. The fear reeking off the woman was positively entrancing, and she almost gave up the guise there and challenged this pointy - haired freak to a duel then and there though when she caught the glimpse of cloud - she started. She knew he was the one who had supposedly killed 'him' and the fact that this man was now looking for him. Shared memories perhaps? Sometimes the clones had that? She could recall memories that were so vivid but she knew weren't hers. Something now, stuck out though.

She tried not to think about it. Tried to pretend she wasn't interested as she saw that image of beautiful silver turn and walk off. In her mind's eye, in the part of the brain that memories struck she could see the flames licking at him like a longing lover and it sent a chill down her spine to her very core. Something sinister, something evil, and she closed her eyes against the flood of words that wanted to come back into her own mind like a loving chorus. She knew it was just her own insanity - not the voice of the planet but it was so hard just to think with them all chiming up in her head. Growling with urgency she took the few Gil that she had managed to collect and moved towards the bar to buy herself something to eat before she would start her journey. She would follow this silver haired freak - and see what became of it. Not like she had anything better to do lounging around Midgar anyways.

She headed into 7th heaven, and watched as the few patrons in the bar scooted away from her, as the images of the scowling man there. Sephiroth had headed off the day before but she could track him - for it hadn't rained yet and she knew where he was headed but also the shortcuts to get there. Running a hand through her hair with her gloves she growled at the large black man as he moved to stop her, ready to tell her they didn't accept charity cases when she flung the Gil at him, muttering in a heavy false accent that it should be enough to pay for one lousy meal before she took a seat at the bar and tried to find enough money to pay for a drink. No luck, so she waited instead for the brunette to give her the grub already. She ignored the glances, and the few patrons that seemed ready to run and eat somewhere else.

She knew she stunk of the streets. Wasn't her choice - but they'd never think to find a woman with her skills rotting here when she could be living the life of luxery. They would never have thought in the time spent there that she would have cut off her beloved hair - the locks that reminded her so much of a man she'd never met but knew somewhere she loved already. A sort of love that goes with the depth of unbreakable. But she didn't expect to feel this way when she met him right away. The natural urge to destroy and kill what she hated was overwhelming to the point that it was almost as harsh as the chourus in her head that decided to chime in at the worst time.

Seeing a plate of food deposited in front of her, she haunched over it protectivly almost immediatly, glancing up into a pair of curious yet kind brown eyes as a glass was set down. She opened her mouth to point out she had no money but Tifa only answered to say that it was on the house. The woman faltered though, in the light of the tavern the show of green eyes against the pale face and strands of silver that fell only to her chin trying to escape showed. The resemblence would be perfect, if not for the obvious buldge of brests on her chest. She turned her gaze down as she saw the color drain from the bartenders face and muttered an apology as she watched her step back and the big man come to comfort her. Maya didn't care, she busied herself with the food in front of her trying to hide an almost smug grin on her face at the thought that she disturbed her so.

Tifa had never done anything to her, though still that distaste, that almost bitter hate towards the woman was something that she could never get over. The look in the woman's eyes when she saw cloud - the fear, the ugly glow of love that she had shined through. It was almost as disgusting as thinking that Aerith was back. Finishing the last bite of food she reached for the glass and felt a hand on her wrist. She followed the hand up to the face of the bouncer, tight with anger and restrained violence. She felt her body being lifted and the hood falling back to reveal her face and the gasps of the people in the tavern. Anger flushed her pale skin red, and the ugly curls of once beautiful silver fell in their chopped ruins around her chin, her green eyes narrowing.

"An' lookiee here. NO CLONES ALLOWED. How did you get 'n 'ere?"

"Let me go."

Her words were simple but the threat was implied. She saw the patrons reaching for whatever weapons they might have carried and sighed almost dramatically. Her foot swept out faster than the man's eye could catch and she hit him hard in the shin below the knee and watched as his huge body collapsed like a ragdoll. She almost fell under him but as soon as her feet touched the ground she was springing into a backflip, the contents of the glass she had been holding falling to the floor in a clatter. She turned a pair of glaring eyes around the tavern and stood, pulling her hood back up as she looked to the pissed off looking black man holding his knee.

"I only wanted a meal. I'll save you the trouble of loosing your life by exiting myself. I'm tired of this dump anyways."

And without another word she turned and left the tavern, deciding to head out of town the back way instead of trying to work her way by those lousy gaurds.