it's so wonderful~ [open]

[style=float: left; margin-right: 8px; border: 3px solid #F0EEE9; margin-bottom: 4px][/style]Piper McQueen was a big fan of the Japanese culture. Everybody who knew her was constantly reminded of the fact, so much that they felt they were fanatics about the whole thing as well.

The brunette closed in on the doors, one step at a time, and the sound of her shoes hitting the smooth, polished steps in a steady rhythm wonderfully comforting and easy on the model’s ears. The lighting was dim, though Piper wasn’t bothered by the fact in the slightest, because she knew that beyond those doors, a garden that transcended all beauty would be sitting in front of her, basking in the light of the sun, sparkling and generally just tempting her to give everything a small little poke while suppressing silly giggles.

She’d decided to don semi-casual apparel, as the hotel itself was a thing to behold. She was sporting an olive green, low-cut blouse (which was much too embarrassing for Piper to wear without a black T-shirt), knee-length, faded jeans, white sneakers and a beret matching her blouse. Today, Piper had let her hair fall over one shoulder, completely unobstructed by useless accessories. Her brown eyes with wide with an almost child-like excitement that bundled itself up and buried itself inside her chest. Her lips cracked a grin before she’d even gotten past the door that led to the legendary Japanese roof-top garden.

Sunlight hit her pale face as she opened the door wide, taking in the smell of fresh flora and greenery. It was lush and the epitome of grace, the little flowers so delicate, like the fluttering wings of a firefly. They handled themselves with poise, and were clearly handled with utmost care—even an amateur botanist (which is to say, not at all) like Piper was able to tell. A wide, carefree smile spread across her face as she took it all in, letting herself absorb every miniscule detail that showed itself to Piper’s intent gaze. Her chocolate hues flickered back and forth, the tip of her tongue protruding slightly as she decided where she’d go first.

Stepping stones, pretty much necessary in a Japanese-themed garden, led the way deeper into the roof-top garden. Piper was impressed. Such a feat would’ve only been capable by the most talented. She was glad for their effort, though, because it allowed for people like her to enjoy the culture of the revered Japanese.

Spotting a strange article of clothing, however, Piper slowly skidded to a halt, her eyes narrowing in concentration as she attempted to make out the figure that stood a few meters in front of her. It was … a lion? No, it was standing upright. It looked more like a man wearing some sort of bright, flashy lion sweater.

Which, of course, was incredibly accurate and Piper just couldn’t believe her eyes. She entertained the thought of wearing glasses, but it was quickly washed away as Piper strove to get a closer look.

The woman stopped beside the figure wearing the intriguing sweater, and casually said, “It’s a beautiful garden, isn’t it?” Casing a sidelong glance at what looked like a man, she added, “That’s an interesting piece of clothing you’ve got there.”

[style=float: left; margin-right: 8px; border: 3px solid #F0EEE9; margin-bottom: 4px][/style]Piper regarded the man closely as he clumsily fumbled with what was in his hands—it appeared to be a camera of some sort. He was clearly startled by her sudden appearance, and Piper felt that she held some responsibility for the young man’s outburst.

“Ah! Honto ni gomen ne—I mean, I’m sorry!” She blushed profusely as she realized that she’d allowed a Japanese apology to exit her lips. The sentence hung in the air, and it was only then when she allowed herself to chuckle at her own mistake. “Ha ha. Sorry. I tend to do that a lot.” She tilted her head in an affectionate gesture, the corners of her lips lifted to reveal a good-natured grin.

Piper casually scrutinized the young male, who actually seemed as though he were younger than her. He sported dark hair—it was funny, though. Piper couldn’t tell if it was a really black or… a really dark shade of blue. Either way, Piper could plainly tell that it had been meticulously groomed and cared for, causing her hues to flicker to her own hair. She self-consciously twirled her chocolate locks around her index finger, pursing her lips as she studied them, wondering if her own care for them was enough. Sure, she didn’t like to over-use shampoo products, but…

Piper also noticed that she was in fact taller than the man, who appeared to be Asian. Actually… it was more Japanese than anything, though he could’ve been Korean—Piper tended to mix the two together, though she was painfully aware that a true Japanese lover would’ve been able to tell the two apart. She also noticed that he was indeed quite attractive.

She giggled once more as the young man explained himself. “How do you manage that, not knowing what you’re wearing until you’ve walked a good distance?” She didn’t mean it as an aggressive insult—it was a slight teasing, but she realized (of course, after the words had been said) that the man might not appreciate her sense of humor. She made a mental note to run her sentences through her head before she spoke again.

“You can call me Piper,” she replied in kind, processing the name. She cast a sidelong glance in the young Asian male’s direction, not noticing the fact that he was from a popular Japanese band. How was she supposed to know? She wasn’t “hip” with everything, she supposed. However, the question lingered in her mind, and she found that she just had to ask it.

“Are you… Japanese?”

The brunette breathed a quiet sigh of relief, her body seeming to release the anxiety that had bugged her for only a few seconds. “That’s good,” she replied, tilting her head as she regarded the camera. “It looks expensive.” Of course, Piper wasn’t an expert on electronic devices, so she wasn’t completely sure of herself.

Piper observed the young man studiously as he continued to shoot photos of the scenic Asian sights, clutching her bicep and leaning on her left leg in a relaxed position. He seemed to be enjoying himself. However, Piper couldn’t help but notice a couple of glances being shot in her direction, and to every one of them, the model attempted to meet and acknowledge with a sheepish smile of her own. All the while, she was biting her lip and smoothing herself out, wondering if there was something unusual about her apparel or overall appearance.

The Asian man began to speak with her once more. Piper chuckled along with him, politely and with some restraint. She was surprised to find that she was cognizant of her own actions, before concluding that the reason for her oddly mild behaviour was her need to land a good first impression on the man, even though she knew that the chances of them meeting again were incredibly slim. Despite this, she said: “No, no. You look great in it. It’s cute, really.”

She stopped herself from saying any more, noticing that she was trying too hard to console him, and knowing that it would sound pretty weird if she attempted to go further. Her gaze continued to eye his strange choice in attire, though her thoughts were by no means negative. In fact, she was wondering what would happen if she tried going to a photo shoot with a lion sweater on, looking all sexy and sassy. The corners of her lips lifted as she marvelled at the thought.

She studied his words as he revealed that he was indeed Japanese. A small flutter occurred inside her chest, but she also noticed that he hadn’t exactly showed enthusiasm in his answer.

Darn it, Piper. I thought you were going to at least pretend you had some tact.

“Ah,” she uttered. “I … thought so?” She bowed her head, staring at the tops of her shoes and bit her lips, thoroughly abashed. She looked up, looking at the Japanese man, Leon, through her hair. “Sorry. I’m a bit of a fan when it comes to Japanese music. It was a weird question—I get it.” She was surprised with her actions—she didn’t expect her, Piper McQueen, to be incredibly flustered. She was normally radiating with a unique, flamboyant charm. She gritted her teeth.

Eh … I guess this means I have a weakness for Japanese men.

Swiping the stray hair out of her eyes, she decided that she wasn’t going to fumble and stammer her way through the majority of the conversation. She smiled at the dark blue-haired man. “You into our ‘American’ music? I, personally, am not so much of a fan of it. I’m a pretty weird woman—my friends tell me that a lot.”

(OOC: Fan of Japanese music, don't know anything 'bout Leon's band. Seems legit.)

A ceremonious nod in the younger man’s direction was all that Piper could manage—she feared the betrayal of her lips, her tactless words. Her eyes softened into a thoughtful expression as he asked for the kinds of Japanese music she actually liked. The brunette tilted her head at the question before answering.

“Well … Vocaloid music sung by real people? That’s usually how I find my music—clicking random videos with Japanese titles to songs whose titles I can only guess by seeing the thumbnails,” she replied smoothly, in spite of how she clutched her bicep in anxiety. “I’m usually listening to that kind of music. I don’t know … I think I just like hearing different people sing the same song. It’s really interesting,” she finished mildly, offering a rather bashful grin.

At the mention of songs, her gaze rested on his visage for a few seconds. She suddenly had the strangest feeling that she’d seen (or heard) him from somewhere, but she could quite place a finger on it. Her brows lifted in an inquiring expression, lasting momentarily before it disappeared and was replaced with an affable smile. She was imagining things.

She chuckled shyly at his response to American music—she didn’t blame him, but she wasn’t in a position to defend or condemn American music. She never really listened to it, anyway. “Right, right,” she nodded in agreement.

“Eh?”

A sharp intake of breath reflected her surprise. A pink tone thrilled her cheeks. Piper averted her gaze, and thought that her body seemed to be acting on its own. She was certain that she didn’t have any feelings of romance towards the man. Rather than loving feelings, it was more flattery that had been laid on thick—or seemed to because the person in question was her type. Either way, she wouldn’t stand for this. Her cheeks calmed down, and she soon had full control of her body.

“Wow, thanks.” She grinned. “I wasn’t expecting that, but okay! On the subject of hair, one can really tell that you take care of your hair well.” She wasn’t laying it on thick, oh no. She was just being honesty. That was what she kept on telling herself, anyway.

Piper went on to look particularly baffled, a finger twirling the chocolate locks that flowed down over her shoulder. She was looking at Leon’s hair. “That’s what I’m saying, but I have to ask. What color is your hair? I…” she paused momentarily, wondering if her question would be met with mocking laughter, or maybe even a condescending look, or something else that would make her feel humiliated. “I keep thinking it’s a really dark shade of blue, but I’m not even sure of myself right now.”

Piper couldn’t help but giggle while nodding her head, her eyes bright and smiling. He’s so cute, she thought adoringly. The way he awkwardly stumbled through his sentences struck the brunette as endearing, and she couldn’t help but think of him as a little brother at that moment. “Yeah, you’re pretty much right. Her name’s Hatsune Miku, though. Robotic twin-tailed diva,” she informed, her hands twirling around her head to indicate Miku’s trademark pigtails. “I prefer to listen to human vocals, though. I mean, I don’t have anything against her. She’s cool.” She waved her arms in the air in front of her in a reassuring gesture. “It just feels kind of weird to me, y’know?”

His next question seemed to have caught her off guard, judging from the way she leaned back slightly with a surprised expression painted onto her face. Piper proceeded to avert her gaze, becoming very interested in her feet. She laced her hands behind her back. “Yeah,” she admitted, nodding shamefully. “I’m really gung-ho about the limited amount of phrases I do know in Japanese, so I try to use them in everyday situations, I guess.”

She lifted her head. “Ah, about that! I apologize. I thought you looked, er, familiar. I don’t know why, though. Just a strange thought—you can forget about it.” She nodded again, more to herself this time. It was like she was trying to convince herself that she was mentally stable. The conversation seemed to be making sure that each person had their fair share of flustered moments. She could’ve growled at the conversation, but that would’ve just dug a deeper hole for her own self.

With renewed conviction to stop being a complete moron, she nodded at Leon. “Mm. Thanks for that. You know how to make a girl’s day,” she teased him, flashing a casual grin.

She was on a roll, her expressions switching about faster than a thespian’s—Piper was becoming skilled in falling into the flow of a fast-paced conversation. She was thoughtful for a moment before shrugging her shoulders, the answer frustratingly elusive. “It looks like a really dark shade of blue right now,” she noted. “Well, it’s a pretty color,” she continued simply. “And it looks good on you. That’s all that matters, really.”

Oh boy, she was already quoting her own manager. The plethora of sayings and proverbs that her manager seemed to pour out of her mouth was unbelievable, and it was already begging to rub off on her. She was not about to become picky about her appearance. She only agreed to modeling because there was good pay and as long as she wasn’t discovered in public, she didn’t have to wear outrageous outfits every day, nor was she expected to be on top of the latest trends. She still had to look stylish, but she was pressured to do so. It seemed that both participants of the conversation had something to hide from each other.

Steering her thoughts away for the moment, the tingling, odd sensation was back again. Her memories were becoming angry hornets, stinging her repeatedly in frustration to get her to remember where it was she’d seen Leon. Her expression retained a bemused look, her lower lip pushed outwards as she thought. “I’m serious, though . . . I swear I’ve seen you around before. I don’t know where, and it’s really bothering me. You know any reason why I might’ve seen you?” she asked, troubled.

Piper tilted her head, a smirk adorning her facial features, her feminine features shining brightly, her countenance affectionate and welcoming. They’d only been chatting for a few minutes, and Piper was already beginning to treat Leon like an old childhood friend.

She nodded in agreement. “Mm. Robots singing can be attractive, I guess. I think I’ll stick to human vocals, where I can listen to and enjoy an actual human being’s talents.” She fiddled with her lush, brown hair as she spoke. “Vocaloid songs are nice, though. Intoxicating . . . perhaps, for lack of a better term,” she grinned, shifting her weight from one leg to another and folding her arms neatly across her chest. “I’m weird like that. It’s one of my best features.”

Piper let out a chuckle, shaking her head. “Well. I’m not totally into Japanese culture that I’d pretend I’m Japanese.” Had she allowed even a smidgen of dignity escape her, though, she could very well be capable of it. “It interests me.” The brunette pursed her lips, eyeing Leon with an eyebrow cocked upwards. “Ha. This probably sounds really weird to a Japanese person,” she snickered, more at herself than anything else.

Leon awkwardly plowed through his words, earning him a cheeky grin from Piper. She nodded. “Yup. Didn’t happen.” This person was really entertaining. She’d totally have him as a little brother.

She was silent for a moment, pondering her next words, or perhaps constructing some sort of witty prose for her to say. Either way, her thoughts were interrupted by Leon’s voice once more, thanking her for complimenting his hair. She flashed a thumbs-up. “Lookin’ good.” She didn’t really know what to say.

Her eyes wandered to the scenery that they’d been ignoring for a bit. She turned away from him, whirling around on the balls of her feet, immersing herself in the scenery of the Japanese garden. “All right,” she said, nodding, but she knew she’d probably go digging around for information on him later (in retrospect, she was disgusted that she’d thought a thought like that). Her voice, however, was far away, up in the clouds. She was busy admiring the view, her hands laced behind her back.

“Y’know . . . someday, I really want to go to Japan.” She turned back to face Leon. “But I’m afraid I wouldn’t be able to navigate at all, nor communicate. My navigation skills are already abominable—just imagine if I couldn’t even ask anybody for directions.” Her smile was sheepish, her cheeks slightly colored. “I still want to go, though. Have you been there? How is it like?”

In retrospect, everything she’d said so far had been due to exposure to Japanese man stimulant, causing her words to come out either jumbled up or soaked in an attempt to synchronize interests that if she’d looked back on the conversation she wouldn’t have guessed that it had been her speaking. She frowned sourly at the thought, silently reprimanding herself for acting like an idiot. Even so, her self-deprecation was probably useless anyway, seeing as Leon probably didn’t look like he cared one way or another, and if he did, he was being extremely careful to hide it from her—a trait that she wasn’t sure she hated or liked about him.

“Intoxicating . . .” she mused, her thoughts trying to get back to what she’d been originally thinking when she said it. “Well, as robots, their vocal ranges can be played with, and they can easily reach those high notes that some humans can’t, is what I’m saying. They can structure their songs with that advantage. Other than that, though,” she trailed off, her face wrinkling in confusion, “I don’t know why I like them. Maybe I just haven’t cared to look too much into non-Vocaloid songs.” She turned her gaze to Leon. “Maybe I should look into some Japanese bands.” The sentence carried no suspicions from her.

She nodded happily at Leon’s understanding, her head bobbing up and down. “Yeah, it’s like an interest that people have—maybe somebody’s really into a certain breed of dog, or perhaps a style of music. I’m interested in Japanese culture.” She shrugged languidly. “It doesn’t border on obsession or anything, but if you were interested in something, you’d want to know more about it, right? Admire a certain breed of dog, listen to a certain type of music, or chat with a person from a culture you’re interested in.”

The conversation was slowly reaching to a standstill, leaving a very quiet Piper with nothing to say. A wry smile crept its way onto Piper’s face, which almost shook her head in understanding of her foolish actions. “Yeah, I see what you mean. I should’ve known,” she chuckled. Leon proceeded to tell her about Japan. Piper didn’t say anything, following along with small nods of her head and smiles right on cue.

Other than that, however, she couldn’t think of anything else to say—after all, she didn’t exactly know him. To Piper, Leon seemed somewhat restrained, or maybe even uncomfortable. Piper couldn’t say she liked that. Breathing out, she sighed. “I should be going now. Forgot I had things to do.” She shook her head, eyeing the exit warily. She didn’t feel like getting on Leon’s nerves much longer, so she silently excused herself and hurried off, her chest heavy.

(OOC: Piper has nothin' more to say, so she escapes.)