Are you 18 or over?: yes
Other characters played: Anakin Skywalker (skyguy
Name: Sync the Tempest (Ion replica #5)
Canon: Tales of the Abyss
Age: Approximately few weeks, physically 11
History: Wiki page
Point in canon: after being thrown into Mt. Zaleho
Window Location: within the volcano, hidden behind a rock formation.
Abilities: He holds the potential to use Daathic fonic artes, but doesn't yet have training or the amplification glyph Van gives him, so he's pretty much a normal child, physically. However, as a replica, he learns much more quickly than a normal child, so while he can't speak too well, he should pick up language at an accelerated rate. (which will help because pretty much no one will understand the few words of Ispanian he actually knows.)
Possessions: the simple cotton shift he's wearing.
Personality: In canon, Sync is cold and manipulative, with a definite sadistic streak. He hasn’t been treated well by life, and it shows. He seems to enjoy tormenting others, especially emotionally, as evidenced by his manipulation of Guy using the curse slot, forcing him to attack his best friend. At only two years old his actions have a certain childishness to them, and he is stubborn and hates being pitied. It’s not hard to imagine why he lashes out at people instead of trusting him—he was created as a replacement, thrown away, then taken back to be used again. He sees himself as empty and worthless, even if his outbursts of emotion when facing death speak otherwise for him. After all, he is still a child, thrust into a harsh world that gave him nothing to live for.
However, very young and with no knowledge of the Score, or why he was created, he hasn't become locked into that narrow way of thinking yet. He's an impressionable child with much to learn about the world, though he has been exposed to some of its harshness already in the form of his time in the volcano. And no doubt he wasn't treated well by his creators before that. He would be cautious of other people, but would learn to trust much more easily than he would if he were older.
Stubbornness, however, is more likely to be innate, so he would retain that. He hasn't had a happy few weeks of life, either, so he would still be a solemn and serious child for the most part, and will probably need to be taught what "fun" is. He's used to discipline and being treated like an object, and doesn't even have a name of his own yet.
Along with stubbornness comes the single-mindedness of accepting only one thing as truth: in his case, Van's ideal. Whereas the seventh Ion replica was able to see the future as having multiple possibilities, even when presented with those possibilities Sync dismisses them. While this is probably partially a product of his upbringing, his natural stubbornness and resistance to change must have played a part. This means that whatever he learns first and accepts as truth will stay with him for a long time, so his first impressions will be important.
Overall, Sync in the game was bitter because he was refused the opportunity to have meaningful connections, so without bias and given the chance he will most likely cling to whatever he can get. This isn't really a healthy attitude, but a child raised as a science experiment wouldn't have the luxury of many things, including healthy companionship.
Thread Sample: this whole post
Prose Sample: The heat is nearly unbearable. The boy huddles down, his bare feet pricked by the uncomfortably hot stone beneath him. There are two men in white coats arguing nearby, but their words are just noise, meaningless to him. There are others like him, four of them, all in dirty cotton shifts and in various states of dazed confusion.
Sudden movement, and he looks up--one of the men strides over, grabbing a child by the hair and dragging him to the edge of the ledge they stand on. As he stares, uncomprehending, that boy is released from the man's grip and tumbles out of sight. There's another noise, a noise he doesn't understand but makes him shudder nonetheless, gripping his knees tightly.
The men are shouting at each other again, and the child next to him is moving closer, huddling against his side and making small noises of distress. Soon there are only three of them left, as the one who can't walk is dragged to his feet and sent to his fate just like the first.
There are small, dirty hands gripping his arm now, and he looks over, into wide eyes full of terror. Something in him goes cold then, even in the thick, wavering air of the volcano. A lump of ice in his chest, sliding down toward his stomach.
He turns his head slightly, looking at the scientist standing near them, watching his partner in horror. The other is still looking over the edge of the drop, laughing to himself.
The boy stands, grabbing the other one's wrist, and runs. Bare feet slapping against heated stone, breath ragged, he doesn't get far. The second scientist corners him, but the other child gets away, too afraid to stay and try to help. The boy tries to bite the arm circling his thin chest, but gets nothing more than a grunt of pain in response. A gloved hand backhands him across the face. He coughs, the air already taking a toll on his weak lungs. Unable to actually fight a grown man both bigger and stronger than he is, he's dragged back upward.
"Where's the other one!?"
The scientist holding the boy swallows. "Lost him, sir. He slipped over the edge, right into the lava."
"Hah! A fitting end. Let me deal with this one." He grabs the child's neck in a viselike grip. His captive is still coughing and struggling. He drags him to the lip of the ledge, eyes glittering with cruel delight, and lets go.
The boy falls. He twists around in midair, panicked, his back hitting a rock formation on the way down and slowing his fall, albeit practically scraping off a layer of skin. His poor excuse for clothing catches and tears, but it gives him enough time to lunge for and grab a lip of rock, hanging on for dear life. His back is dripping with blood now, but he doesn't seem to notice. Feet braced against the sheer slope, fingers straining, he glances around frantically.
He ignores the babble of voices from above, sweat dripping down his forehead into his eyes, stinging. There--another ledge, wide enough to stand on, out of sight of the scientists above. He only has one chance, but doesn't seem to give it a second thought, pushing off with his feet as hard as he can. He hits the ledge shoulder first, rolling onto his back, panting.
The boy pushes himself up, looking around, spotting a medium-sized stone nearby, and sets himself against it, straining. With a small groan of protest, it rolls over the edge, splashing into the molten rock below. The scientists seem to accept this sound as the one a body would have made, and eventually their voices fade.
The child slumps over, squeezing his eyes shut, apparently now feeling the pain of his injuries. Minutes stretch by as he lies there, immobile but for the rise and fall of his chest. Then he rolls over, wincing, wiping his face on the back of a thin, bruised arm. He gets to his feet, breathing labored, but determined.
He happens upon what must be a manmade pathway, deep in the bowels of the volcano, complete with hand rails for safety. By now he looks ready to collapse, his body covered in burns from a few unfortunate encounters with hot rock. He tenses when he hears footsteps, scrambling behind a curve in the rock wall.
A man's voice speaks. "Are you there?"
It comes from the upper level of the walkway, and it isn't one of the scientists. In fact, it sounds almost...concerned. The boy waits until the question is repeated to peer out from his hiding place.
A man in his mid-twenties is standing there, in a knight's uniform, but minus the helmet. He looks intrigued rather than upset. "Climb up here."
The boy hesitates.
"...what's wrong? Are you hurt?"
He merely tilts his head, not understanding. But he starts to approach cautiously. The newcomer looks him over with a critical eye, frowning at his injuries. Once the boy is close enough, he takes his arm, holding his other hand over it. A golden-green glow forms beneath his hand, healing the worst of the burns and scrapes. The boy watches, wide-eyed.
"I've seen your parameters," the man says thoughtfully, "but that was still an impressive jump back there." His reply is only a blank stare. The boy watches his mouth move curiously, trying to imitate him. He frowns a little, clumsily repeating some words he'd heard before.
"It is...really...too bad." When the man raises an eyebrow, the boy continues. "Too bad. The. Problem is the synch-ro-ni-za-tion level."
The man chuckles a little to himself, almost appearing amused. "I see. So you've retained some memory. But you don't remember my name?"
The boy merely stares. "Synchro...nization...level."
"My name is Van. Van Grants."
"That's right." Van appears to have finished his healing job for now. "Does anything else hurt?"
"Ah. Show me, I'll heal you."
"Hurt," the boy repeats. "Hurt." It's clear he's only imitating sounds now. The man frowns.
"No, no. I suppose we can't call you...hm. Your name from now on will be 'Sync'."
He puts a hand on each of those thin shoulders, towering over the child looking up at him without fear.
"Come with me." Van turns to go, but the newly named child only watches him. "Can you walk? Or would you rather stay here, and disappear like all the others?" He crouches down to the boy's eye level, searching for some sort of comprehension. "Stay...or go?"
"....go," Sync says.
Plans: I played Sync from the latest possible canon point in a game once, and while I enjoyed it, I ran into a problem often: he's very stubborn and doesn't adapt emotionally because of all he's been through. He has a lot of difficulty connecting with people. Taking him from a much earlier time, before his life can be defined by the Score in his eyes, will give him a chance to learn and grow in a completely different direction. I'm really excited to see how that goes.
Additional notes: She takes on the forms of the various monsters that live on Auldrant. However, she can only become juveniles, since she's very young and Sync himself is even younger than his physical age suggests.