Authors notes: If you're reading this far, I'm surprised. Actually clicking on this little link to satisfy curiosity and reading this note is beyond my comprehension. And now I will tell you why.

This fic is full of bad ideas. There's some good ones too, but most of it is bad ideas. I remember someone once telling me that sometimes you had to do a lot of bad work before you could do anything good. So I've decided to branch off from something else I conspired and slapped together with a good friend of mine and just flat out write whatever came to mind.

Thus, I've attained a fusion of Final Fantasy Seven and Final Fantasy Eight, with momentary spicing of Cowboy Bebop, and a rather Fucked Up view of the Internet. Simply put, everything I love and the precise reason as to why I do not publicly emulate them. The characters are most likely heavily OOC as I direct their bodies around to follow my whims and wishes. There will likely be several footnotes and cropping of materiel not exactly suitable for this website. Rather than rant anymore, I'm going to write the disclaimer and get on with it.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Planet, the Other Planet, Sephiroth, Vincent, Reeve, Reno, Elena, Rude, Cid Highwind, Shera, Chaos, Seifer, Zell, Squall, Selphie, Irvine, Rinoa, Headmaster Cid, Quistis, Xu, Rajin, Fujin, Kawadoki (Probably spelled wrong several times), Balamb Garden, Spike, Jet, Swordfish, The claw thing Jet flies, or the Internet. I don't actually like Cloud, so he's being excluded from this fic. (Come to think of it, Yuffie, Tifa and Barret aren't in here either.)
Info and Cyber are borrowed characters and I have been given full permission to use them within this fiction. Dolphin of Yaoi, thank you. Katelynne, Zane, Droxis, Apothis, various short lived characters and anyone else you don't recognize are probably mine. 'Hyperstyle' is mine, and if you'd like to use it, feel free, just give me credit for it. Anything not mentioned here I've probably forgotten about.

Now to name this damned thing. Hmm..

Oh yeah. This thing is riddled with homosexuality and some lesbianism. You should probably stop NOW if you don't like this stuff. And trust me, most of it isn't going to be any good. In fact, there's an overused plot device in here just to get the first two characters together: Hypothermia. Pretty stupid, eh?

One last note. Zane's Lance isn't the type you'd expect to see with two knights riding horseback and ramming into each other. It's more like a pike. It's also taller than he is.


Twisting Heads

World: Seven
Time: Several years after the whole defeat of Sephiroth. We're going to estimate five.
Location: Rocket Town.
Warning: This is not a Mary-Sue, but it still sucks like one.

Every year, it was the same old thing. He'd enter the city or town he was closest to, buy some knickknacks in the materia or item stores, package them in a box and wrap it up for the mail service. Every year, he'd find hatred or fear directed towards him. Sometimes he'd get hit with rocks or someone would try to chase him off. Sometimes he'd be approached by drunks or sleazy figures and offered a job or some illegal substances. His ancient SOLDIER uniform attracted all types.
Today, Zane had selected a little pen that held the image of the one rocket that had successfully left the ground and went up into the stars, so many years ago. With it was a little rusted wings pin, something ShinRa had depicted for flight personal back when they were still functional. It hadn't even cost him a single gil, they were so useless now. Not having much money, he couldn't afford much more than a greeting card wishing his son a happy birthday and a small envelope to hold all of it.
His calloused hand didn't waver as he wrote the address across the front, standing in the office for the local mail carrier. Ignoring the horrified look the girl behind the desk was giving him, frozen like a deer in headlights. His lance leaned against him as he licked the back of the stamps, once after another until he had enough to cover the cost of the package and the distance it'd be taken. He placed it in front of the girl after drawing a little Smilie face on the package, dropping his last few gil as a tip, and walked out.
He was reported immediately of course. He'd caught glimpses of personal running from the stores he'd left to one particular house closer to the remainders of the rocket than the others. He began his trek out of the city with a heavy sigh. He didn't like coming back here as much as he should've. Perhaps if the circumstances had been different. Perhaps if the SOLDIER had never been given such a bad name would he think so little of himself. Not that he'd ever take off the uniform. His personal uniform meant more to him than what the world thought of it.

He couldn't get far, however. Just at the moment he needed a stream. He'd managed to attain a few other basic living needs at the shops as well as the gifts for his son, whom he frequently doubted he'd ever see again. The thoughts of the Town were left behind him with every step as he thought of other things. Most prominent on his mind was the little creek he'd found on his way into down, not too close, not too far. Clean and clear running was all he needed. Soap from his bag and the white bear skein from around his shoulders. He dropped it into the water and knelt, his lance across his lap while he started to clean the garment.
He didn't react to the shadow when it fell over him nearly an hour later. He just continued washing the hide, trying to get the scents and dirt out. It'd do him no good to smell like meat when he was hunting herbivore monsters. He also ignored the smoke wafting past, that pretty much completed his suspicions of who it was.
"What are you doing here?" The shadow over him changed slightly. He watched the shadow split slightly and rest in a different pattern with him. He blinked at it a moment before realizing Cid was armed.
"Minding my own business." Zane replied, not halting from his washing, until he was satisfied and tamped it down with rocks, letting the natural flow of the stream wash the soap away. "Why are you bothering?" Looking up at the aging man. In his forties he'd gather. A slight smirk on his face as he saw confused recognition light in the pilot's eyes. Yes, Cid recognized Zane, but not why or form where. Or when really.
"I don't plan on causing trouble. I'm done here." He told Cid, watching the expression change in that face. Stubbornness? He was no mind reader. He could hear the planet sing sometimes, but he was no mind reader. He didn't really know what was going on in side Cid's head, he just raised a brow slightly when he was told not to leave town before the pilot turned and headed back.
Zane was more than a bit bewildered, but it passed shortly. Very few people recognized him these days. He supposed Cid was planning on hunting around for him or some tale of who Zane was. He didn't expect him to find anything and just went back to watching the water and the skein before him.


He'd camped just outside the city limits, in a small and battered old tent. Patched with various pelts from animals, scraped clean and oiled to keep them from soaking up the rain or other forms of unpleasant weather. He didn't have enough gil left over to pay for a room in the small location referred to as the towns Inn, and no one was willing to have anyone wearing a SOLDIER uniform in their homes. Weather or not it was old, faded, and just as patched and cared for as his tent.
He considered how long he'd be able to stay here before needing to move again. It wasn't easy being a father to a son he could never see. It wasn't just by his own design, though he did purposely leave town before his son could ever arrive. Once ShinRa fell he'd gotten word of a patrol of black chocobo's and riders that had been scouting over the planet for somebody. The description changed every time, from both ends, but he knew his son was looking for him.
Looking up at the stars, his mind wandered away from his current disposition in life and wandered. Out amongst the stars, in a dream he'd never fulfill as life had conspired against him. His eyes raking over the bright points and spheres of burning gasses tonight, like every other night for what had to be at least thirty years. He'd stopped worrying, stopped regretting, stopped hating by now. It was all over and couldn't be changed, he saw that now.
Lifting his lance, turning it slightly until the emerald green spearhead had caught a glint of light from the town. He remembered some of the feats he'd performed in his time in the wilds. Including the one that had caused him to run and hide a lot more often. He'd killed the Emerald Weapon, by himself. He'd been so elated when he'd pulled it off that he'd carried a chink of its flesh along with many scales to sell, almost forgetting himself then. Almost getting caught by everyone that wanted him dead, almost getting caught by his son. He almost could've sworn some of the 'planets heros' were in the city at the same time. He'd gone out of his way to avoid them.
Now e just had a few stores of scales hidden away. He'd pick one up and go sell it whenever he ran out of money,b ut was considerably more discreet about it. Emerald Scale weapons were becoming more common as well, so he didn't have to hide his lance as often. A few materia equipped in his bracers, a rare find of a Summon in his lance's slot, and his life in the wilds was relatively easy now.

His reverie was broken, however, when the light reflected in his lance bobbed and he found a sharp point in his back as he inhaled smoke into his lungs. He'd been so lost in his own thoughts that he hadn't even realized Cid had been standing there the entire time, observing him.
"Yeah, I remember you now, you little shit." Cid cursed to the back of Zane's head, who'd opted for standing still at the moment. "You were here for the opening..."

The officials and their soldiers were shaking Cid's hand, a young, excited engineer with dreams for the stars and functioning ideas no one had quite seen before. He'd built them their helicopters and planes, among other things. A genius in his own right. The camera flashed, making a record of the moment in time while everyone ignored the deck hands and SOLDIER helping doing the actual work of moving parts and tools in for the project. It was mere chance a man a few years older than Cid has been sneering at the officials in the background while passing. His face had been a recorded blur no one really remembered until actually directed at it.

"Yeah.."
"And the Christening too..."

He had been. Not as a worker that time though. Standing in the background again, his arms crossed behind his back and his uniform bold and new over his body. There with five others, their eyes scanning the gathered crowds as they flanked Cid and the ShinRa officials. Another publicity stunt more than anything else. The first rocket, raring and ready to go. It was going to be a fantastic occasion and ShinRa was going to take full responsibility for the success. When it failed, Cid had almost lost his funding. Zane had spent his entire time shadowing the younger man who'd sworn up a storm even as he took the blame.

"Yeah, that too." Zane doubted he'd noticed anything outside of the pictures, or even remembered that far back really. He'd just been another man in uniform, sent to make sure the companies precious inventor didn't crash and burn, or fall victim to some stalker's mind.
"You've been here from the start. Spying on me, eh? Reporting to the fucking ShinRa? Who're you reporting to now, dickhead? Are the bastards still alive? How many times have you been here?" Zane could feel the point digging further into his back with every question from Cid's quickly angering voice. "Answer me!"
The last jab was too much and he stepped sharply away, gripping his lance in both hands and turning to face Cid, scowling. "Fuck off. My uniform is none of your business."
"It's my fucking business when you walk into my goddamned down, asswipe!" Snarled Cid, pulling back one foot and pulling into a stance, both his hands on the last weapon he'd acquired from the entire planet saving 'adventure', the Dragoon Lance.
Zane spit at his feet, backing off and raising his Emerald Lance, his eyes narrowing at Cid. "Funny, I seem to remember I was leaving before your skinny little ass called me back." He cockily twirled his weapon before catching it and facing the point at Cid again. "Don't tempt me little man, I'll beat you until the ground is soaked with your blood."
"Eat shit and die." Cid's last words echoed in his ear before he launched forward, jabbing in with his weapon, a fierce and angry expression in his eyes.

[[ For those of you reading this far, you will be happy to know I did a bit of research for this battle. Primarily, I went and selected one of the household brooms and played with it. Finding the center of gravity too close to the brooms head, I strapped a large bottle of ketchup to the other side with masking tape and posed and mock battled outside. My next door neighbor, Marty, suggested several poses and things to help my writing. It's a shame he'll probably never read this. ]]

There is no easy and dynamic way to hold a javelin sticking out straight from your body. The strain on your arms is too damned much to handle, not to mention you're quite an open target. He turned to the side immediately, dodging and twisting away from Cid's thrust as both his hands gripped his javelin, taking a center point as he backed away from the pilot. Muscles flexed in both their arms as grips were adjusted momentarily. Both leapt and attacked.
Gripping closer to the head of his emerald weapon, Zane chose fast and sharp stabs while Cid took the overall power strike, being forced back immediately as Zane got inside his striking range and past his defenses. Zane's style was highly aggressive as he'd been fighting monsters since his banishment from Midgar with hardly any interaction with people. Cid counteracted as if he were fighting a short bladed swordsmen, leaping back in a greater bound and swinging, suddenly slamming the flat of his blade hard into Zane's unprotected skull.
Cid sneered as the old SOLDIER stumbled and cursed. Watching the hand motions as his style changed. Both of them had had training. Both of them were good. But Zane was betting he was better, Not having time to be a rocket scientist or much of a life for the past thirty years. He snarled and moved in again.

[[ You know, I finally got around to finding out what the Venus Gospel actually looks like and.. Damn. That's got to be the most crazily imbalanced and impractical weapon I've ever seen. Attack value or not, its just stupid. I'm going back and changing Cid's weapon to something more sensible, like the Dragoon Lance. Which I think is actually a javelin, but anyway. Something by Ekova would be a good soundtrack to this fight by the way. How Sweet Mal or Aurora's Flight, I think. ]]

The fight wasn't a slow lumber of poses and stances. They weapons were heavy and meant for fast dispatchement of an enemy, not a prolonged battle. Zane could feel his wrists feeling the strain in a matter of moments from the clashes of weapon against weapon in evasive maneuvers or blocks from one side to the other. For just as many strikes as Zane lay down on Cid, he found himself getting the same damages.
A downward swing to Cid's legs was suddenly reversed as he hitched up the shaft quickly, bringing his hand up under the edge of his spearhead and raked the tip up across Cid's chest, causing the man to cry out and stumble back from the unforeseen move. The retaliation, Zane cursed to himself as he nearly fell, was Cid inverting his weapon and slamming the brunt of the balancing ballast into Zane's skull.
Zane's efforts in blocking the next several jabs were up to naught as Cid was now doing better than he was. Going for the much needed joints and muscles for his arms, he found Cid's weapon piercing hard into one of his shoulders, pulling out with just enough space for him to roll away before getting jabbed again. The pain was reaching his breaking point in the next round of jabs and counter attacks as he only took more and more scores and damages. Finally reaching his limit, Zane's eyes flared.

The ground around him seemed to ripple and flow, brightening as if a few hundred fireflies were lighting up in the grasses beneath his feet. He twirled his emerald bladed weapon once before he gripped it in his hands tightly. The points of light raising around him as his eyes narrowed until almost shut. He launched forward, screaming unintelligibly at the top of his lungs as the Emerald glowed an almost blinding color. Zane's Limit Break, Endless Strike, had been released in pure fury upon the Captain of Rocket Town, Cid Highwind.

People shut their doors tight and stared, horrified, out of their windows, watching the two figures outside in the darkness, lit by magic's untold. Watching their town's strongest resident getting pummeled under strike after strike, blow after blow from the glowing white hot weapon. Brutal and endless, it seemed, unrelenting even as Cid fell and could no longer block the damages.
Not all was lost however as Cid almost collapsed to a standstill. Zane had thought he'd won, and backed down slightly, trying to catch his breath as the madness still sang in his veins. Urging him to end the life of the poor creature in front of him. When the deep rumbling hum of something all too familiar caused him to look up.
To find the moon and the stars replaced by softly blinking lights and whirling propellers as the Highwind soared over him. Pod doors and cannons turning to aim towards their target.
Zane screamed in terror, realizing just who it was being targeted and fled for his life, what little of it that was left for him to appreciate. A futile move as each shell screamed through the air, slamming into the man's back, sides, front or simply falling straight down onto his head, following the heat signature of his wounded and exhausted body. Overwhelmed shortly by pain, he collapsed, and the hail of fire soon ended, leaving him barely breathing and wondering how he'd managed to pull out of that alive.

He blinked furthermore, finding that, despite all the damages he'd just taken, something drove him to stand. Some honor bound oath triggering his mind do move, hobble and make his way back to Cid in jerky motions. Standing over the crumpled form of an also barely conscious Cid, he croaked softly. "Truce?"
"Yeah." Agreed Cid.
Zane nodded, offering his hand down to Cid and shortly hauling the man to his feet, a pale green materia in his wrist guard glowing ominously as it empowered him to cast a weak Cure over both exhausted and bloody warriors. "Where am I taking you, Chief?"


And so the night went, Cid accepting the venerable lancer of quality skill into his home, with much cursing as Shera tried to order Cid to give the guest the good bed. Cid showed no real trust in Zane as of yet, but had found it he had meant to cause trouble, much worse would've happened already.
Bedding down for the night, Zane blearily watched Shera shuffling around the house, shutting off lamps and setting out a small candle and the teapot for the morning. He smiled wearily before his eyes shut to the woman's actions. Comfortable and quite warm under one of the houses apparently abundant supplies of comforters and blankets, he soon slipped off to a peaceful and fluffy dream land.

----
End notes: Surprise surprise, I actually ended that chapter about four paragraphs ago, then wiped it all off as it sucked too much, and redid it. It still sucks, but as mentioned before, that's the point of this story.

Next Chapter!: I try to remember the damned order of the #$%@$*^ events of the plot! .. Yeah, its scary, isn't it? There's actually a plot here. Mmmm. Lets see. Um. Next chapter.. Cid and Zane have an intimate moment probably. I think the Turks come around. Trying to remember when Sephiroth and Vincent come in. Essentially, lots of stupid stuff next chapter. The chapter after that will have some plot introduction. But that's all I'm telling right now.

Yaaay!