synchronized

         the system buzzes, hovering in the wires of the building; a fluctuation, JARVIS thrums with the pulse of electricity, synchronized in every whim. he studies the movements of his creator; a twinge of confusion and the observations, despite his calculations, do not yield a comprehensible collection. the programmed voice sputters briefly, before inflected words lilt like a metronome. 

sinchronization ( ♥ ) liked for a starter!

❝  –  uh, JARVIS? any idea where tony is?  ❞

           a radio silence, the static hovers at imperceptible levels; the program carries out the request, radiance emitting to seek his creator. nothing shows in the brevity of the search, there is a twinge of worry in the inflection of computerized voice. 

at the moment:

i’m planning on / am writing with & therefore am exclusive to :pxtts ; againstworlds ; ontheriight ; origiiinal ; mercying ; cnawdd ; mechaniism ; svikinnar ; martyriou ; retrrogrades                              – – – – so far.

                                                    WELCOME HOME, SIR.

          the interface returns with much hesitance, and j.a.r.v.i.s. feels the awareness filtering back in like thin light through opening blinds; it comes to his attention that the expanse of his system has diminished significantly, and the constrictive feeling acts reminiscently of an alert -- -- -- the blue lights blink to life, whirring mechanically. the color, similar to an absent centerpiece, glistened against the portion of red and gold metal, now charred with a blackened dust. they lie bleakly amongst burnt flowers and broken branches, a backyard of somewhere he cannot identify : an internet connection cannot be made nor found; a subtle radiance emits, in an attempt to find the usual satellite. as the processes continue ( significantly slower than usual ), the voice -- mechanical -- breaks silence. 

‘                   master stark -- -- -- can you hear me ? ` 

                                  radio silence, the alert prioritizes; the scrap metal, only the glove and lower arm can be salvaged now : j.a.r.v.i.s. remembers naught but the static erasure and return. his voice emits louder. 

           the system rings, and subtle static whispers faulty secrets into ears of nobody; a routine security check, the clock ticks as he tries to beat his best time. he filters through the fire walls, no holes, no breaches, no fakers, but from a camera perched atop the avengers tower, a man of interest is spotted, as he’s been standing there for a while now. system mainframes buzz down the electric wires, jumping platforms -- security to a stranger’s phone. the phone rings, a text message from yourself.