IF WE'VE NEVER RP'D TOGETHER send me a simple starter:

Friendly:

“You look a little lost. Do you need directions?” “That’s an awesome outfit.” “How’s the chicken? I can’t decide whether to order it or not.” “Excuse me, I think you dropped this.” “I don’t know a single person here…”

Flirty:

“Wow, I’ve never seen an angel before…” “You’re the hottest person in this place.” “I saw that. You just checked me out.” “Hey, can I get your number?” *wolf whistle*

Confrontational:

“You’re in my seat.” “What are you staring at?” “You just stepped on my toe!” “Who do you think you are?” “Keep it down, will you?”

Dramatic:

“Get down - he’s got a gun!” “Help, I need medical attention!” “Just kill me now!” “I need a ride! Please!” “Are you crazy? It’s too dangerous!”

“My story is boring,” Proxy stated with a sigh, “Guy gets thrown out and becomes homeless for five long years, then he finally gets back to normal society. The world is so unfair though. I can’t rest until poverty dies in a flaming hole with homelessness.” His voice filled with conviction when he stated this, though, his usual joking tone of voice all but gone as he discussed this, “Poverty is ugly as fuck. I’d never wish it on anyone, and I’m glad I got out of that situation- but not everyone is that lucky. After I ate all that humble pie, I wanted to get everyone else out of that situation. I despise rich people.”

The double meaning in his final statement was more directed at himself- rich without a care of the world, yet helpless in aiding his friends in more concrete manners, and he leaned back, shutting his eyes as he clenched his jaw slightly before he added, “I know your motivations and what makes you tick so I answered your question as to why I hung out with homeless people. We even?”

He nodded, lost in thought for a moment before finally speaking. “Yeah, we are,” he confirmed. “And I appreciate it.” He smiled a little, warming up more now that he knew more about this strange person. “It was disconcerting having you know all about me while I didn’t know a thing about you, so… thanks.” With that, the driver pulled up, looking a little surprised to see someone new but not saying anything about it. When he asked where to go, Heesung looked towards Proxy. “You have the address, right?” he asked, before furrowing his brow and glancing between the car and the other man. “And… do you… need help getting in?”

“Me? Hack? Goodness me, never,” defended Proxy, though his voice was positively dripping with sarcasm, “And also a chauffeur seems…kinda nice, yeah.” He trailed off shiftily, trying to pretend that he had never been chauffeured around before, before pushing the laptop away and closing it shut. “Mmm, I guess so, yeah,” he added non-committedly, wandering off the gentle slope and locking up his wagon while waiting for the car to arrive and pick them up. He was scrolling through his phone in the meanwhile, visibly distracted.

After getting ahold of the driver, he went to wait with Proxy, enjoying the day’s unseasonable warmth. He couldn’t let himself relax too much, of course - he had already been close to a transformation twice earlier, after all, and the idea of a nap outside would almost certainly push him over the edge if he were to let it.

The transformations no longer scared him like they had for a time. He had spent the last couple months learning how to keep his focus, the same techniques for grounding himself during flashbacks and panic attacks helping him keep his human mind alert even in his fox form. He had even practiced when Doyoung wasn’t home, since there was no guarantee a transformation would conveniently wait for him to be around, though he suspected he would be in trouble if this were discovered. Still, he was content in his ability to control himself while transformed, if not always the transformations themselves. The only wrench in this plan was the mother fox, who was still a mystery, and who could still destroy his focus with a single look, if she wanted - though she apparently didn’t always want to, leaving him confused as to her motivations.

But all of that aside, it wouldn’t exactly serve him well to transform now, in front of this stranger, so he straightened and turned to the other man. “So, what’s your story?” he asked conversationally. “You seem to know what drives me, but why are you getting involved in this?”

“I mean, did you think I Bluetoothed the video from your phone? Like, duh,” Proxy responded, almost nonchalant, “I mean, it’s not like it’s difficult to hack a laptop to recognise voices. There’s inbuilt microphones nowadays.” He pointed to a small jack on the laptop he had been using, before he watched the other’s reaction. Proxy for a brief moment felt bad for someone who couldn’t control his transformations, before realising he had better things to do. “We can go visit some choice places. I wish I drove now, we could go places,” he mused aloud, tapping his chin as he slipped into deep thought, “I guess we could flag down a taxi? I’m sure it wouldn’t bring us anywhere suspicious.”

“Well, I certainly didn’t think you just hacked it out of midair,” he replied, annoyed that he didn’t really get a proper explanation. Besides, he may have been out of the loop as far as technology, but he knew his own laptop, and he knew it only had a spot to plug a mic in, not something built into the system - he’d learned this when he wanted to overlay audio on some of the videos he had taken, as well as when he recorded himself playing some music. But the other man soon moved on, and the matter seemed inconsequential compared to what they were after. “I have transportation,” he volunteered. “My roommate has a chauffeur, and he never has any objections to me making use of him. And considering my roommate’s history, he wouldn’t have the job unless he knew how to be discreet.”

Proxy accepted the laptop and expanded the picture, vigorously waving his hand at the screen as it got brighter and brighter and finally, he flicked his hand to zoom towards the figure. While the features were still blurred, it was obvious from the build of the person that they were at least some sort of trained mercenary. “Pause,” he stated lowly and the laptop configured itself to focus on the hands of the goon, trailing the blurry figure’s body to find any sort of defining detail. At last, he found the shoes to be somewhat outstanding and gave a curious grunt. “Looks like we got our lead. Hey, find me anywhere that sells combat boots, won’t ya?” he asked the laptop, forgetting he had a guest beside him, and the laptop blurted out several different stores under an incognito setting.

He watched, entranced, as the other man did all he needed without even touching the computer. He knew technology was advanced now, and some computers could detect motion and such, but he hadn’t thought his laptop was one of them. And when Proxy asked for places that sold combat boots, he thought he was finally getting a chance to help out again… until he saw the computer spit back the results almost instantly. “Okay, how are you doing that?” he finally said with a huff. “Because as far as I know, my laptop is too old for motion detection technology, and it doesn’t even have a mic plugged in to make use of voice-activated commands.” He rubbed his head, making him look all the more confused - but in actuality, it was because he felt that twinge again, and he was checking for ears. At least earlier had made sense, what with the feline behavior, but he didn’t know why computer issues, of all things, should nearly prompt a transformation. It wasn’t as if this stranger’s ability was related to Jejoo liking him, right? He didn’t know. But for now, at least, he continued to stave off a transformation and waited for an answer.

After giving Jejoo a snuggle in the cat’s belly with his face (which shockingly the cat obliged to, if not because she had been sensing that the stranger was another cat), Proxy released her and Jejoo left, turning a circle in confusion before dunking her face in the water bowl as if insulted by her own display. “She does? I don’t know. I give off friendly vibes, maybe,” Proxy stated lightly, chuckling to himself as he gave a shrug. Of course, it was obvious why Jejoo deferred so easily if Heesung knew more, but for now…

“We can start here. You got a laptop we can use?” he asked, putting the peanut butter away and washing the spoon in the sink, “We just have to brighten the video by a lot and then maybe we can discern some defining features beside a dubious duffel bag.”

He watched, shaking his head in confused amazement at Jejoo’s behavior with this stranger. This alone made him feel a little better about things, really: He and Jejoo may not have had the best relationship, but she did seem a relatively good judge of character. “Huh? O-oh, yeah,” he replied, pulling himself out of his musings and running to his room to get his laptop. He quickly emerged with it, plopping back on the couch and opening it up, entering the password and opening the folder that contained the photo and videos before handing it over to Proxy. “You’ll have to be the one to do that. I sort of can, but not well,” he admitted sheepishly. “I’m still getting used to a lot of today’s technology.”

The man easily grabbed the peanut butter jar as well as a spoon, scooping it off the jar before licking it like a cat drinking from a bowl, giving a look of confusion at Heesung when he was asked. “Fun,” he responded at last, as if that answered all his questions, “I invite you because it’s fun to have someone with me while we make a great escape. That’s all.” He relaxed, still lapping the spoon like a child when the cat in the house appeared. “Hello,” Proxy stated, as Jejoo, initially, gave a slight hiss, before tilting her head in confusion at the familiar scent of another cat. She proceeded to lick Proxy’s shoe as a greeting, shaking her head at how different this other cat tasted before Proxy lifted her up and gently touched her nose to say hi back. Jejoo struggled at the stranger’s grip, but calmed down easily when she felt the familiar gesture and seemed to treat Proxy as a friend thereafter.

He was unfazed by the way the other man ate the peanut butter - hell, it was the same thing Doyoung did with Nutella at times, and at least peanut butter tasted better on its own. And the answer, while vague, was still more of an answer than he could get out of his roommate in a lot of cases. Really, what threw him off the most was Jejoo’s behavior. “That,” he said, raising an eyebrow, “is the first time I’ve ever seen her not take a swipe at a new person.” Watching the whole greeting, though, with Proxy easily taking the lead in the interaction, he gave a small shrug, adding, “I guess she knows when she’s found a cat person.” Seeing them acting like that, though, he felt a small twinge, animal instincts wanting to join in - or at least, play alongside them, his fox form not necessarily mixing well with cats - but he squeezed his eyes shut and the feeling quickly passed.

“If that’s all, then I’m in,” he said, with barely a second thought. Whatever they were doing probably wasn’t technically allowed. There was a good chance Doyoung would frown on him getting mixed up in who-knows-what, rather than just going through the proper channels. But the idea of uncovering truths and helping people? He couldn’t resist for long, even if it went against his better judgement. “Where do we start?”

Proxy tried to reach it for a few moments, but he was too short inside his chair to do so and turned away, sulking a little. “We mutually benefit. You get that news story you want, and I get to punish some human trafficking wankers.” he explained, his tone of voice turning unusually dark at the last phrase. He adjusted his gloves- if Heesung was less sheltered, he would’ve easily recognised them as heavy duty hiking gloves, which served to inhibit Proxy’s enormous strength (or a single push from him would break his wheel clean off), before giving Heesung a look that indicated his interest. “I mean, they all call me Proxy, so can you,” he added, using his alias as usual, “Proxy Lee. There, now that you know my name, can we proceed, Yoon Heesung-sshi?”

Feeling a twinge of sympathy seeing the other man reach for the spread, he stepped to the side, giving him easier access to the rest of the pantry - the shelves he could reach, anyways. “Anything besides Nutella,” he directed, before sinking into one of the chairs at the kitchen table, cringing visibly at the sudden formality. “I guess I’m still a bit confused,” he admitted. “Why would you want to work with me?” He glanced over to Proxy, then stared down again. “Not that I don’t appreciate the offer. But don’t you already have what you need from me? It’s not like I’d be any more help to you.” He wanted to do this, really. He wanted to help. But it was, once again, something that seemed too good to be true.

“When did I say I was gonna threaten you into silence?” Proxy gave a shrug before making a motion like he was sawing a log sideways, complete with obnoxious hip motions, “We’re just doing some sort of tug-o-war with no compromises. Can’t we just team up and work together? It saves us so much time and effort.” He was switching gears easily, somewhat more conciliatory now that they weren’t avoiding each other’s questions. Proxy sauntered over to the fridge, almost treating the place like his own before opening the door and taking out a banana-preservation bag. “Ooh,” Proxy enthused, already hungry from the constant touting and opening the bag up, removing a banana from it before eating it, “I’m sure your roommate won’t miss this, he has like six of those bags in there. And do you guys really need that much Nutella? More for me, I guess.” He reached over, unscrewing the cap off the Nutella before he poised his fingers over it as if to dig out the jam and eat it. Proxy was really uncooperative when he was hungry, and this was no exception.

He was too late to save the banana, but he was able to swipe the jar of Nutella from the stranger before he put his fingers inside, thus ruining the whole jar. “Why should I work with you?” he asked, screwing the cap back on the spread and putting it back on its shelf. Though it may have seemed a flippant question, he was genuinely asking. “I know nothing about you, I don’t know your motivations here. For all I know, you’re doing this just to clear your own name of whatever went on.” He turned back to the other man, looking him over once more as he let out a small huff. “I don’t even know your name. And you expect me to agree to work with you, just like that?”

“Silence is implicitly assisting them,” Proxy stated, hopping off the handcycle into his own chair after parking it outside the house, “Besides, I have many alibis that can confirm I went down to help them check what was happening. The other person doesn’t, and you don’t either. Witnesses’ recounts are really important, you see.” He gave a slight nod, inviting himself into the house by opening the card lock (it wasn’t too hard, and the card lock seemed offended that he was allowed in) before shoving himself past Heesung to enter the house. “Ooh. This doesn’t seem like a house you two could afford,” Proxy’s first statement was, looking around in fascination, “Who’d you rob to get the place?”

He shot the other man a nasty look as he pushed inside, but he wasn’t exactly able to stop him. He scoffed as the man looked around, though, the idea of Doyoung not being able to afford something striking him as patently ridiculous. “My roommate didn’t really use your services, did he?” he said, staring hard at the other man. “You don’t know as much about him as you like to let on.” He wanted to plop down on the couch to continue the conversation, but considering how sooty the other man was, he didn’t want him to follow suit and ruin the furniture (and Doyoung’s sanity). So he stayed standing, loitering awkwardly in his own house. “Sorry, but I do have witnesses. I’ve gone there a lot in the last couple months. Maybe I’m not welcomed as one of their own like you seemed to be, but the vagrants know me, and know that I’m someone who comes by to help.” He stared down at the stranger, jaw tightening for a moment. “You keep jumping to conclusions, though. I never said that I was going to keep silent. What I said was that I didn’t know why you’d bother coming unless you planned to threaten me into silence. You seem to know so much about me, but you don’t get me at all, really.” A slight smirk crept onto his features as he finished. “What sort of reporter would I be if I just sat on a scoop?”

“I mean, I could’ve just taken them but they were so blurry. You’re a bad photographer, more like,” scoffed Proxy, dusting himself obnoxiously all over Heesung, “Also, did you mean this video?” He showed Heesung the video of the strange man looking through lockers with him and gave a shrug, indicating he wasn’t playing around with this, “I mean, if you want to tack ‘implicitly helping out a kidnapping ring’ to your already lengthy string of offenses, go ahead, really, but I’m clean.” He cleared the rest of his stock, closing up his shop for the day as he counted his wads of money, already budgetting as to how to split it amongst the vagrants. “It’s your call, but for someone who was so into the whole justice-for-the-downtrodden spiel, you’re coming up short and becoming a really big disappointment yourself.”

His eyes widened at the mention of a kidnapping ring, his mouth hanging open a little, but he managed to regain his composure by the time the other man finished talking. “Who said anything about helping these kidnappers?” he asked. His intention never had been to keep what he’d found - if it was worth anything - secret, but to expose what was going on. “Besides, you’re the more suspicious one here. You say you’re clean, but what proof of that is there? You’re in the video and photos alongside this other person. We met because you offered to alter my records. I’m sorry, but you don’t exactly seem like the law-abiding type. And if you just needed the video, you got it already, so why bother me unless it was to keep me silent?”

He had to admit, he was a little terrified. He had no clue what exactly was happening or what he had gotten himself wrapped up in. All he was certain of at that moment was that there was more to this other man than there appeared to be - the strength when he had grabbed him before was proof of that. But despite that, he was strangely excited. He knew that being a reporter had more to do with connections and office politics than about dramatically chasing a story, sure… but this was exactly the sort of intrigue he imagined in the job when he let his imagination run away with him.

“Like…2 coins or something, I can’t count,” Proxy stated, bringing out a wrapped bowl of wheat noodles and tossing it to the man, “It’s nice to promote the other shops around that can’t really go around.” He leant on the rest of his modified handcycle, eyes twinkling as he added, “I mean, you could also get these noodles for those photos you took before, but I unno, is it too hard a bargain?” He was interrupted by some more neighbors looking to buy noodles and briquettes, and eagerly distributed them, insisting it was ‘pay what you want’ while hiding the fact that he had absolutely no clue how it all cost. At least the neighbors seemed reasonable and he soon sat on a tiny amount of money that he stashed away in a little pouch hanging off the cart. “So? Do you want to let me in? I’m just doing some charity work! I won’t stay too long, I’m all sooty,” he ended at last, giving a smile as he turned on his charm.

“Sorry,” he sighed, giving a helpless shrug and a resigned smile as if things were out of his control. “I’m not supposed to let strangers in when my babysitter’s not home.” He wasn’t entirely sure where this facetious attitude was coming from, but it was better than freaking out, so he didn’t bother to restrain himself. “Besides,” he added, looking the other man over, “the fact that you’re all sooty makes it worse. Unless you planned on cleaning up after yourself, my roommate would freak out.” Pulling out his phone and absently thumbing to one of the photos in question, he held it up for the stranger to see. “You mean this? That seems a strange payment,” he said, feigning ignorance. “Unless there’s more here than meets the eye? In which case, I think more than a bowl of noodles is needed to make this a fair exchange.” Sliding the phone back into his pocket, he eyed the other man. “I’m confused, though. If you’re as good a hacker as you implied earlier, this exchange wouldn’t even be necessary. Good thing I didn’t sell a kidney to afford your services after all, what a let-down that would’ve been.”

Proxy bade his friends farewell and kept watching the video, over and over in his mind while he drove home. After dropping off his items at his house, he went off once again to the other’s house, finding the idyllic apartment easily. While he couldn’t help but notice the accessible gentle slope, he soon found himself at the door of the apartment and rang the doorbell. With a bit of luck, he had transformed himself into a salesman on a ‘bicycle’, and hardly anyone batted an eyelid at his riding a small wagon down by propelling it with his arms.

“Hello, is anyone home?” he asked loudly, “I come bearing noodles and coal briquettes!” Some old ladies came to purchase the briquettes, still a bit more conservative with regards to general heating, and Proxy sold them eagerly before waiting for a reaction at the door while he continued loudly touting his ‘business’. For a person who claimed to hate business, he was surprisingly enterprising.

It took him a few minutes to stir - but fortunately, the salesman was there for a while, his repeated cries and sales pitches eventually breaking through the layer of sleep that had settled over the man. He went to the door a little groggily, doing his best to smooth his hair before opening it, looking forward to the promise of noodles… only to be greeted by the man from the subway earlier. He blanched immediately, but though his first instinct was to slam the door and lock it, he resisted that urge. What good would it do to hide? This stranger had already found his house, it seemed ridiculous to delay the inevitable. Instead, he leaned against the door frame, trying to keep himself calm while also blocking the other man from entering. “If it’s you, maybe I’ll have to reconsider,” he said, a forced lightness obvious in his voice. “How much will those noodles cost me? A liver? A kidney? A lung?”