Wardrobe

Villager: Spica Tiel

S P I C A
The Half Sister

She / Her || Demisexual

|| Mostly Uptight || Skeptic || Independant || Sarcastic || Intellegent ||
|| Survival Skills at its finest ||

Spica never wanted to involve herself with her father's side of the family. Not anymore. To her, that family bear too much pride and is too big of a chaos. With the expectant of every member to uphold the reputation it carried for decades, it was too much for Spica to carry on any longer. Sure, she loves her pride and a bit of danger to spice life up a little wouldn't be too bad- she's up for it-but to the point that it became impossible to have even the slightest bit of calmness? It was insufferable. She got better things to do than just being agitated all the time.

Ever since the passing of her mother at the age of 15, Spica decided to move far from the current household she was living in, along with cutting the ties she had with who she used to begrudgingly call 'father'. Whether the said man gave any consent towards her leaving, no one knows. The second day after his wife passed away, he dissapeared only to be found dead two months later. His death remained a mystery to his other family members and they mourned his passing. But to Spica? She couldn't care less. She never got along with the senile old man just like he never did. She sees no reason to be concern about it.

Tiel was a name she reluctantly kept for the sake of the promise she made with her mother. The promise to retain the name for the sake of the love her mother has for her father. Spica never did get a chance to understand why though. Why the woman came to love the late man in the first place.

She wanted to change it. The name. How she yearn to have her mother's family name, but she wasn't really the selfish type of being. Well, not completely that is. Spica Stone has a much nicer ring to her. A bit odd, but better than with that retched other name. And she was sure the Stones wouldn't mind too. But what worries her the most was that the current name she carries around could bring the last thing she wished for.
Unwanted attention.
And what it brought along.

After abandoning her old life, Spica left the city she once resided in for a sleepy old town known by many as Dormire, in the north borders of Quetzal Palace. The town was where her mother came from, so she was more than eager to move and live there.

Upon arriving at the bus station of the town, she was immediately met and practically engulfed by the welcoming aura of Dormire. Unlike the crowded and ever bustling city she came from, the town have a rather calm atmosphere. A few can be seen running about here and there but it wasn't as full of beings as the city. Feeling at ease and taking in the sights around her, she almost didn't realize the figure that stood waiting for her, looking alarmingly like her mother. It was a female, tall and lean and bear a warm smile quite similar to her too. Though unlike her mother's long brown locks, this one had a short , bob-styled cut. When they locked gazes with each other, Spica had gawked at first, for she had forgot that her mother and the sister of said mother would look almost exactly the same. She knew they weren't twins, but the resemblance would say otherwise.

"Spica. You little rascal, how did you grow so big?" the brunnete chuckled, spreading her arms indicating for a hug. Spica didn't hesitate to run towards her and accepted the invitation. It was almost 10 years since she last met her aunt and she was the same as Spica remembered; always cheery, warm and inviting.
"I miss you too, Aunt Fay." She sniffled. It was so overwhelming at that moment, her past melting away behind her. She could almost cry.
Heck she did cry.

From that moment on, the life she had was becoming a normal one. Not at all filled with chaos, no. Instead it was calm and steady- the typical life she always wanted. She lived with her ever so cheery aunt, in a small cozy house at the edge of town. The house was adorned with multiple types of flowering plants that surrounded nearly the entire yard. Both front and back. She may be a bit peeved off when it comes to her turn to water them every morning. After all, the darn things can be a bit much to handle sometimes.

All was well during the first 10 years. She almost never expected anything to go wrong with how things turned out at the time.
That is until an unexpected figure decided to pay her a visit someday. At first impression, he was queer but seemed to have a casual personality. She would have slammed the door shut to the stranger's face due to his suspicious nature- if it weren't for the foot he stuck out to prevent her from doing so.

"Aran. Aran Tiel." He introduced while not-so-politely let himself in into the house.

"Funny how our last name's the same, don't you think? I'm actually quite astonished that you kept it. You know, considering the fact that you don't want anything to do with the family that carries the name in the first place."With an almost sing-song voice, that was the first sentences he spoke despite just stepping in and intruded the other's home. His face was a mocking expression of happy. By that point, the phrase taken aback was beyond Spica to say the least. And it dawned to her in that very moment- the past that she all but tried to diminished decided to spawn back from where it once came. And haunt her.

Staring at the being that disturbed her peaceful daily afternoon reading in bewilderment, the expression she bore slowly contorted from shocked to a fixated glare, suddenly filled with anger. The nerve of this guy. Wishing a knife lodge down your throat now don't you. Spica merely stood her ground and silently observe the male's movement. Managing a straight face, she prepared herself for the worst. This was definitely going to lead to something rather distasteful to her current life-style. Just when I got the appetite for an entire batch of brownies.

Finally she spoke up when Aran started to fiddle with the trinkets that hung along the walls of her home, "I take it that we share the same bloodline. Now which wife of that old man you came from may I ask? I swear that that he got so many that we might as well be far removed." She almost spat, but held a steady tone. One thing that Spica always expected but never knew when it'll be coming was this kind of situation; where one of her so-called father's ex-wives' children decided to meddle with her life.Great Another pest to deal with.

Aran glanced at her with a quirked eyebrow, seeming unfazed by her skeptism, "Ah- I see you're not as dimwitted as the others." He smirked, riling her up more. "You know that last one would be too good to be true."

Ignoring her question, he sauntered over to Spica's direction- who was struggling from the need to throttle the other in the room- his expression suddenly deadpanned, "I think we'll get along just fine."

Of course, the life Spica knew before has practically just shattered into million little pieces after that. She could almost hear it too- the sounds of the broken bearier put up to separate herself from the actual life she tried to avoid for so many years.

All she wanted was just to have a simple, normal, non-conflicted lifestyle. How she should've known she was being too wishful.
Bloody stupid life-have to be related to mafias. God forbids me from having a peaceful life.

History

Morphed from Big Cat (Snow Leopard) to Saggitari (Quagga)