Taking Things In a New Direction

Log Info

Title: Taking Things in a New Direction
Emitter: None
Characters: Rose, Miles
NPCs: None
Place: Baldwin Hall
Time: Thursday Afternoon, 6/17/10
Summary: Miles sings in the shower. Miles gets blackmailed into singing more later. Rose finds a singing partner. Miles is thus doomed.

So by some accident, the men's bathroom in Baldwin has -fantastic- acoustics. And Miles, despite his powers making this largely impossible, is something of a ham. A ham with a decent singing voice and a year in drama club at his old school, which is why he's apparently mid-Gilbert and Sullivan right now. "When a criminal's not engaged in his employment, or pursuing his felonious little plans, his capacity for innocent enjoyment is just as great as any honest man's!" Actually watching him bath is kind of weird- you can see the lather start to form in mid-air, but then it slowly vanishes as it's scrubbed in and affected by his powers. Fortunately, no one would be spying. Right?

No-one /would/ be spying, if it weren't for the fact that Rose's schedule still hasn't been entirely sorted out, and thus she has a free moment and is working in the common room. But acoustics are acoustics, and she has a finely-trained ear for a tune. Brushing off her skirt, she rises to her feet, snagging her phone along the way (just in case blackmail material is needed) and follows the sound of the familiar musical number. She pauses outside the door to the men's bathroom, contemplating the social ward of the sign on the door. "Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained," she murmurs, pushing open the door as stealthily as she may. And finds… nothing?

"Aha." Lather: check. Naked Miles? Well, that one's debatable. She is completely blush-free as she continues to listen with a critical ear.

It should be noted that if she -looks- through the cellphone at the showers, well, yeah. There's more there there. But while he's not -quite- up to professional standards, he's a well-trained amateur. This can only end well. Depending on one's definitions of well.

Coming to a decision, Rose snaps a picture with the camera, closes the phone, and then speaks up: "You'll have to sing with me." It's not a request, judging by her tone. She leans against the tiled wall, folding her arms over her chest and smiling cheerfully at the not-figure there.

"Wait, -what-? Hey!" Miles wraps the shower curtain around his waist. This is, of course, entirely pointless, but some things are instinct on there being a girl in the restroom with you and you're naked. "What the hell! What do you mean sing with you?"

"Exactly what I said." Rose seems more amused by the disappearance of the shower curtain than anything. The redhead shifts over a bit to block the door, just in case, and holds up her phone cheerfully. "It's probably more painless than my releasing a photo of you in the shower to all the teenage girls on campus."

There's the sound of wet footsteps advancing on her, and a sense that he's suddenly very close as the curtain reappears again. "I -could- just take it from you, you know."

"You could," Rose says calmly, "But not if I've already texted myself with the image that I can pick up elsewhere and replicate." She doesn't seem in the least intimidated. Question is, is she bluffing or serious? "Besides," she adds, "You have a really good voice, and I could help you with your singing."

Miles sighs. "Shit. Forgot you're immune to the creepy power. You could have just -asked- you know. I mean. Without taking naked pictures of me." Beat. "Unless you just wanted a naked picture of me but that doesn't seem like your style."

Rose beams at where Miles ought to be, judging by the water-drips. "Well, I /did/ ask." No, she told him. But… "I didn't know you sang until just now, and I believe in striking while the iron's hot." There's no pause between his comment and her rejoineder of, "I didn't quite know what I'd get with a naked photo of you. Maybe you live up to expectations, maybe not."

"…No, you sort of just said I have to and then immediately escalated to blackmail." Miles sighs again. "Wait, what sort of expectations do you -have-?" If she's looking for a good looking jock, he probably meets them by most standards, but that may not be what she has in mind.

"That's how you interpret it, not me," Rose replies dismissively, waving a hand and hopefully not swatting him with it. Her smile returns with that oh-so-Puckish edge to it. "Oh. I have my standards. We'll see if you live up to them." And, with that, she pushes off the door and opens it. "Remember, six o'clock, the music room." … did she even set a time before?

Miles just…sighs, and stalks back to the shower. "Whatever." He needs to finish rinsing his hair anyway.

And on the other side of the door, Rose indulges in a moment of gleeful contemplation of… yes, singing. And then peeks at the photo she /did/ get. "… /hm/."

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