SyncTempest got their homepage at Neopets.com

Story::
It's survival of the fittest, baby.
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The echo of clicking keys on a keyboard filled a cold and depressing looking room. Am odd looking zafara zafara sat at a desktop of complicated technology. An eerie, green glow filled the room as mechanical equipment moved their way around and through a row of large tubes in the grey, dark room. Each tube offers it's own, eerie, almost scary glow... Blue, Purple, Pink, Red, Orange, Yellow...
But most noticably, green.
All of the areas are recieving some sort of nurturing from the cold but animated machines. Tubes and power cables are hooked up to all of the tanks, soft coloured bubbles floating their way through the thick, partly transparent slimy water that filled all of the tubes.
The rooms are dimmly lit from the moonlight offered by the dusty windows to the side of the room. The stars in the sky outside are blocked by the gathering clouds.
As if on cue, lightning strikes and a clap of thunder rings out as the lights in the tubes quickly splutter out.
How clichè.
The thunder claps again, causing the zafara at the desk to stand up in panic. Something had gone wrong. The generators weren't kicking in. If these experiments didn't work, they could kiss the labratory goodbye.
A small light flickered from the desk and buttons, causing him to type commands and reactions quickly into the online computer. Soon enough, the glow picks up... But some remain out.
He tries again, but to no avail. The lights refuse to be re ignited. Pink and Orange fizzled out, but with it the others only seemed to become stronger.
He cracked his knuckles, tired from the effort of keeping the experiment alive. The question may indeed have been 'what is going on here?', but no-one would dare offer an answer. He stood up and grabbed the white mug that had been sitting above the controls and headed out. Coffee was needed. Badly.

It was a few more days until he returned, this time with a fellow worker. once again, it was a zafara, though clearly a woman. Bueatiful brown hair was tied behind her ears. She had the most gentle brown eyes in existance, she was all around amazing. She wore same type of lab coat as the other. Her red high heels tapped against the cold tiles as she walked across the ground towards the the lights, a child's enthusiasm desplayed on her face.
Like a child in a candy store." The male zafara replied, sitting back down at his desk. He brought up a new window on the screen, text bars in a row. He moved the cursor towards each, filling them in with names... These names appeared in small, neon lights just below the glass of each tube. It added more ilumination to the area, showing the sludge in the tubes thinning slowly.
She gently placed her hands on the glass of the one with the blue glow, her mouth open slightly from the overwhelming feeling of amazement.
There was something here that made hope beat in her heart once again. The secret would remain just that, a secret, for a good time to come. Hope for some, tragety for others.

To be continued. Duh.
**From here are more of Spoilers for Syncy's story. You might want to wait until I fill in enough to join it together =)**
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.Lack of Oxygen. P&R
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.Disease. Y
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.Electrocution. B

This must be fate." she said with a smile, staring at the powerful blue light. "Blue was always his favourite colour... Everything always had to be blue."
Dist rolled his eyes as he sat at his desk. This woman was a loon. What did Shamus see in her? Oh, who cared. As long as they were getting paid for these research it didn't matter one way or the other to him.
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.**HOORAY! More skip -_-; Sync, 7**
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He opened his hand and reached his arm out, his fingers twitching as he put all of his effort into trying to grab the attention.
He reached out for help.
He reached out for hope.
He reached out... For Love.
The love of his mother. The one that took him under her wing. But as he strained to keep his eyes open as the blood poured from his mouth, as he felt his body go numb... As he watched his mother talk to that man, he tried so hard to convice himself this wasn't happening.
No.
He was her only one. The only one she would hold. He was her son. She wasn't ment to fall in love. She wasn't ment to get married. She wasn't ment to fall pregnant with that man's child.
No.
It would ruin everything.
No... No. No. No...
A smile crept onto his face.
A dream...' He thought to himself hopefully as his body gave into the pressure. 'I'll wake up soon... And it won't hurt. Mama will shake me awake, and it will all be alright...'
Darkness.

Light slowly seeped into his eyes... The pupil showing the irritation it caused. He gagged and tried to breathe in, only to have his lungs be pushed back. He tried to flail his arms, but something held him down. He tried to yell out, but nothing came.
The soft beep met his ears as he tossed his head to the side.
The room was white and clean, only small ammounts of blood splatter on the ground. Wires and tubes were hooked up to him, a breathing mask over his face. He calmed himself down and tried to assess the situation. 7 years olds weren't ment to be in white rooms. White rooms were where you were ment to go to die. Atleast, that's what Ester had always told him.
That's when it clicked. His eyes quickly darted to the side, spotting the familiar Prof. Dist sitting comfortable next to his bed.
My my, didn't you give us all quite a scare there~!" He said, almost cheerfully, "You need to take better care of yourself, boy. I have no idea what caused that."
Sync just gave him a cold glare, sending a shiver down Dist's spine. My, that was something different.
Does anything hurt?" Dist asked after a pause and Sync began to stare at the ceiling, almost blindly.
Everything." He replied simply, almost growling his reply.
The grin on Dist's face appeared once again. From a caring litle zafara to these sudden snaps.
You're acting moody today." He commented.
I don't give a da**." Sync growled, closing his eyes. "I'm tired... Of pretending that I like everything."
Calm down boy, calm down." Dist said.
Sync sat up, the wires falling from him. He turned to look at Dist once more, noticing something shine in his hand. "She can get fired for that, can't she?" He asked, seeming to calm down.
Dist paused, raising an eyebrow, "Oh, you're... Quite an intelligent boy... When you want to be."
Sync crossed his arms, "I told you, I'm tired of it. Day in day out 'Hi mummy!' 'How are you?' 'Oh, it's good to see you!' same crap I have to keep living. It's not me."
That's what you called a survival skill, Sync-y boy~!" Dist sneered. "But it sounds as if you're not going be acting like that any longer!" This really was quite astonding... Had He always secretly thought this way? Or had something happened when he blacked out? Thinking over previous events, Dist could see that the latter was not as likely. Being nice, as he had said, indeed just seemed like something to survive.
...Where's mum?" Sync asked, quickly changing the subject.
Oh, she doesn't know about this." Dist replied simply.
What?" Sync asked, seeming more angry than upset.
Oh, she was too busy with that gastly fiancee of her's to realise that you were dying. I was the one that ended up finding you.
Urg, that woman..." Sync complained, thudding back down onto his pillow. "How long until I can get out of here?"
Well, you've proved to me that you're in a more than good enough state to get out of here. You're just full of suprises today!" Dist nearly squealed. This little experiment was turning out to be more interesting that what he had expected so long ago.
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SKIP SKIP SKIP

Dammit. What was that book?
He had to know. It was something so small, but it was the one thing he knew she didn't really want, other than him. What was it that she was rejecting? Oh, look at what he was thinking. It was probably only one of those advertisments you jsut threw out. But still, he was itching to know.
Jumping onto the bed, he moved straight to the edge of the bed against the wall, tryng to pry down the size with his hands. He rethought his stratergy, moving near the puillows and pulling up the blankets and sheets, making more space between the bed and the wall. Urg. How had that book gotten so far down?
He tried once again, managing to reach down near the bottom. His elbows were pressing against the wooden frame, and it his feet managed to move the matress just alittle more, getting all the way to his shoulders down. He felt aroudn the carpet with his hands, but still nothing. He cursed to himself, before nearly pushing the matress half way off the bed, some how managing to tist himself half way under the bed, able to et his back and torso to the floor.
This, naturally gave him a nice clear view of the floor, although it was probably terribly unfomfortable. Eh, the boy was flexible.
That's when he noticed the small book. It was jsut in his reach, stretching his arm forward and touching it with the tips of his hands, just manging to try and scrape it closer.
Yes. Finally he had it, able to open it and notice the letters. But he couldn't udnerstand them...
He'd have to talk to Dist about this.
He eased himself up... Tried to. there was a loud thud as his tail, still above the bed, hit the wall, and the spikes on his lower back scrapped against the wall.
Crap. Oh, Crap.
He bit onto the book, using his hands to try and push up, but for some reason he couldn't get anywhere further than his hips from under the bed. What was he going to do now?!
... DIST!!"
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.**Yep, more skipness. Now, to present Sync.**
I can never remember your order, young man." A voice of a bar keep stated as he cleaned a recently washed glass.
Sync's Aqua green eyes glared coldly back at him, recieving a flinch as a reaction.
I like my Coffee Black," he said sternly, "Just like my metal."
Don't you think you're a little young for caffine?" the bar keep asked, pausing. He always asked the same question.
Aren't you too much of an idiot to run a bar?" Sync snapped back with irritation.
The bar keep muttered under his breath. Youngsters these days! Back in his day... Well, back in his day was a time we don't care about.
Sync tapped his fingers in a rythem as he waited for his drink. This early in the morning he needed a wake up call, and to hell if anyone was going to challenge him just because of his age.
The bar was busy, and it dawned to him that his order was going to take a long, long time. His fingers pressed down against the smooth wood, his gloves cleanly running over it as he reached to the other side.
Papers were set out, as if brouches. Travel Agencies always messed up, but atleast it would be something. He raised his index finger, placing it on one of the papers before dragging his hand back, the paper making a light sound as it brushed against the wood.
picking it up with his other hand, his eyes scanned htrough the text. To his suprise, it wasn't actually a traveling advertisement for once...