RP Example - Introductions
Game: Sunnydale OSI
Who: Wesley and Gwen
Where: Sunnydale High School
When: Tuesday Morning
Wesley was waiting for Gwen to arrive at one of the neighboring rooms to the main office. He was supposed to explain to this young woman that one day, she might be chosen to be a slayer. He wasn't sure exactly how to explain it to her. He was just told to not frighten the girl, but he couldn't figure out how to not terrify someone by telling them that evil beings were real, she might have to fight them, and was likely to die at a young age if she was chosen. Wesley was very nervous about meeting her.
Finally, Gwen came stomping in, all attitude in torn jeans with red fishnets underneath, clunky black combat boots, a steel choker collar, a black streak dyed through her platinum blonde hair. "Yo. You rang?"
Wesley stood up, since it was polite to stand up whenever a lady came into the room, even if said lady was in combat boots. "Um yes...Ms. Morrison. There is something that is of great importance that I need to talk with you about. Please, have a seat."
"Oh, fer christ's sake..." She dropped herself in a very unladylike fashion into, well, Wesley's chair. "Whaddaya want?"
Wesley moved out of her way so that she could flop down. He now stood a few feet from the chair. He looked very nervous, and unsure of what to say next. He was unsure of how to approach the subject, but felt that the girl had a right to know. "Well, you do know that something is incredibly wrong with this town, right?"
She rolled her eyes, and tried her best not to laugh. She forced a straight face. "Yeah. I know things are weird here."
"Good, that's good that you know that Sunnydale has it share of problems," Wesley said. He wanted to ease her into this, thinking that it would frighten her to know the truth. "So you know why this town is so...strange?" He couldn't think of a better word than strange.
With a bored blink and a yawn, she made herself at home in his chair. "Because this place is a Hellmouth? And because vampires and all that shit are around here? Yeah. I think I know, Jeeves."
Wesley was visibly surprised. "You know?" He figured that, if she knew this much, maybe this conversation could go a bit quicker. "Then do you know what a slayer is, or a watcher?"
"Yeah." Thank god her father was so into this shit. "Slayers are hot bitches who kill the demons and shit. And I've been pretty convinced lately thsat I'm either one, or half-of-one, or something, cuz I got a lot of the symptoms." She looked him over and nearly burst out laughing. "And I'm guessing a stick-in-the-mud 30 year old virgin like you has GOT to be a Watcher."
He decided to let the 30 year old virgin comment slide for now. "Yes, I am a watcher. I'm your watcher, to be specific. I've been assigned to train you in case you are called to be a slayer. As of now, you are just a potential. We have a group of them here in Sunnydale, and you'll be training with the rest of them. And while I'm glad you already know most of this, I'm curious to know as to how you know all of this."
She shrugged, and gave a sweetly sarcatic smile. "My old man is a total mythology nut. I've been hearing about everything from medevial days to vampires since I was 9, dude. Hell, this shit is part of my life. I have sex with a fuckin' WEREWOLF for god's sake, James Bond."
"You have sex with a what?" Wesley asked, surprised and a bit indignant. "Do you understand how...nevermind. You do understand that we have to start meeting everyday so that I can train you. I'm supposed to prepare you for if you are called. If you are prepared, then statistically, your chances of dying young will drop dramatically." He didn't say that she wouldn't die young with training. That would just be a lie. If she was lucky, she would never be called. "Until you reach the age of 19 or 20, you could be called. It is likely that whomever is called would be younger than you are now, but you are not out of the woods yet, so you need to train."
"Sure, why not?" Normally, she would have said fuck this, and left this... but breaking this guy? FUN.
Wesley was glad that she agreed. If she hadn't, he might of had to use some kind of force, not that he knew exactly what he could have done to make her come. "Very good, then. I'm glad that you are being agreeable. We should start as soon as possible. Are you in the special gym class for potentials?"
"Should I be?" She asked, seriously. "I usually spend my free period behind the school drinking."
Wesley decided to ignore that as well, but his list of things to ignore about Ms. Morrison was already getting long. "You should be in that gym class. Mr. Carver, the shop teacher, teaches it. It gives you more self-defense pointers. We'll have to enroll you into it as well. You and I will have to train together as well. I think we should start meeting after school every day."
"ooo.. I like a man who's forceful with me." She gave him a lavicious wink. "You're gonna turn me on there, pal."
Wesley was positive that she was just messing with him, but he blushed anyway. Looking down, hoping that she wouldn't notice, he said, "Um...how does two hours after school everyday sound to you? I think that will be enough for a potential. I wouldn't want to take away all of your social life."
"Oh, honey... you could never take me away from my social life. If anything, I might give YOU one." She looked him over decided that he wasn't bad looking, in a dorky sort of way. "Two hours, huh? You sure you can handle two hours with me?"
Wesley pulled off his glasses, rubbing his eyes. He got the feeling that this girl was going to be difficult. He looked at her then slipped them back on. "I think I'll be able to handle you just fine."
"Oh. and.... dude? Do I get to know your name? Or is this some Mission Impossible shit?" She asked honestly, seeming to be more amused by the situation than anything.
"Yes, of course, how silly of me," Wesley shook his head, thinking of how stupid he was to forget to introduce himself. "I'm Wesley Wyndam-Pryce. I also teach World History here, as well as being a watcher. I'm not trying to "Mission Impossible" you." He made a feeble attempt at a joke. He didn't want the girl to hate him or anything.
"Alright, Wes." She refused to call him "Mr" anything. "After school. Where?"
"Until I am able to arrange something more permenent, I think that my classroom will be sufficient. We should be able to move the chairs around enough to have proper training space," he said. The classrooms at this school were incredibly spacious for a high school. He told her the classroom number and ask, "Do you have any other questions?"
Naw, I think I'm cool for now, Wes. See you after classes, a'ight?" She hopped up and gave him a playful smack on the ass as she walked out. "GOOD GAME, WES! GOOD GAME!" She yelled with a giggle as she left.
If anyone could die of embarrassment right now, it would be Wesley. When she left, Wesley quickly gathered up his things, and left also.