#unexalted

“Mmm do I have to?” Smirks. What a nerd.

     “Here.”

Is the only warning before he’s tossing a burger-shaped paper packet to his fellow look out, crossing the rooftop to the fire-escape and the ONLY place that is out of the wind, it seems. Hunkering down in the shadows, he unwraps his own burger and takes a hefty bite to sate the hollowness of an empty stomach. 

       “’nyfing?”

He speaks around a mouthful, content to feed as Jason provides an update. The burger run hadn’t taken him more than ten minutes, and Jason is STILL on the rooftop - so he HAS to imagine that nothing has happened since his departure. 

Glancing over the edge of the building at the parking lot below, he notes the ambling paths of the watchmen and the steady glow of light from the factory windows before returning his focus to his dinner. 

No. Nothing’s changed. No sign of Black Mask. YET. 

It helped that Archadian informants were already present, eased into the web of pirates who only cared for profit and resistance fighters who had the uprise of Dalmasca or the support of Rozzaria in mind. Larsa was not one of them, his loyalty belonged to Archadia, but so did his worry and a wish to see her thrive and bloom in the protective arms of peace, as opposed to war. Larsa easily appeared as if he was supporting their intel gathering, and while that was true, he pursued far more noble goals than just spying. 

Balfonheim was Archadia’s rebel daughter, never intent on supporting the Empire and instead anyone else. It would made things complicated for Larsa, if he were to run about unconcealed and carrying the Solidor crest on his chest as he usually did. He would never deny his heritage if he didn’t have to, as usually he was filled with pride but for the sake of anonymity and his own safety, he became a nameless wanderer, concealed in a cloak and humble getup. Of course even now he had not travelled without any protectors, but they too had donned a simple attire instead of the pretty yet pompous armor of the Imperial army. 

From a mun standpoint, however, it makes logical sense for someone who has seen that future to not make that distinction. Hell, my Robin doesn’t always make that decision (in truth, she makes it extremely infrequently, if ever).

But as dragonblxde said, this is all crack (really, the only thing I’ve done on tumblr today is crack rp, blame it on me using rp as a break from studying for my data structures final tomorrow), and this conversation would never actually happen and neither of them are being (fully) serious right now.

GospelLK 14:1, 7-14

On a sabbath Jesus went to dine at the home of one of the leading Pharisees, and the people there were observing him carefully. He told a parable to those who had been invited, noticing how they were choosing the places of honor at the table. “When you are invited by someone to a wedding banquet, do not recline at table in the place of honor.  A more distinguished guest than you may have been invited by him, and the host who invited both of you may approach you and say, ‘Give your place to this man,’ and then you would proceed with embarrassment to take the lowest place.  Rather, when you are invited, go and take the lowest place so that when the host comes to you he may say, ‘My friend, move up to a higher position.’ Then you will enjoy the esteem of your companions at the table.  For every one who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted.”  Then he said to the host who invited him, “When you hold a lunch or a dinner, do not invite your friends or your brothers or your relatives or your wealthy neighbors, in case they may invite you back and you have repayment. Rather, when you hold a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind; blessed indeed will you be because of their inability to repay you. For you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous.”

Reflection