Quiet, nervous, self-reliant, skeptical.Background
One cold winters night, a small package was left outside a fire station. It sat there for hours without notice, the steadily falling snow gathering atop it. Nearly an inch of snow had fallen to rest atop it before anyone took notice of the package. An aging fireman—who had the bad habit of smoking cigars—had wandered outside the firehouse to satisfy his craving, when he spotted it there on the doorstep. A small red cooler, glaring in contrast to the white snow that covered the firehouse steps. Curiously the man opened the cooler to find a bundle of bloodied white blankets that stirred before his eyes. Peeling them back, the man was astounded to find a baby, pale as the snow that fell around them, and half frozen to death. The man took action quickly and rushed the baby to the hospital, surprised to find that the baby was perfectly healthy. Given the amount of time the baby had spent in the cooler out in the snow—which was apparent by the accumulation of snow that had been on it—the man had expected the worst.
The baby—a precious little girl—spent only a night in the hospital before social services came to claim her. They placed her in a loving home with parents who promised to care for her, but just three days into the adoption process the couple backed out. There was something strange about the baby they said; she never cried, only stared with icy eyes, and was always freezing to the touch. She was brought back to the hospital and thoroughly examined. When nothing could be found wrong with her, she was placed with a new family. This lasted a week before that family too wanted nothing to do with the strange little baby. Social services was at a loss. Every family they placed her with, every foster home that took her in, would eventually give her back. She was scary they claimed. Like a little porcelain doll; cold and soulless.
She was three years old when someone who would love and care for her was finally found. The same man who had found her years before; Fire Marshal Henry White. He named her Snow and taught her how to laugh. The older she grew, the more he loved her and the warmer her eyes became. She was always a strange child, but Henry loved her oddities and took it upon himself to teach her ways to relate to other people. He taught her how to make little glass dolls and paint happy faces onto them, which taught her how to contort her face into pleasant expressions. He taught her various dances, which always got her blood rushing and warmed her skin and made her laugh. He taught her how to smile, how to pout, how to scoff and how to yell. The only thing Henry wouldn't teach Snow was how to cry. But there were no need for tears, not when he was there.
Then it happened. It had been a frustrating day at work for Snow—who was a phlebotomist in the outpatient clinic at their local hospital—and to cheer her up Henry decided to do what he did best. He pulled the fire truck out onto the street, put on some music and lead her around the fire station in a dance. The other firemen clapped and hooted and Snow and Henry laughed as they did the Charleston around garage. He was beaming at her, the wrinkled around his eyes crinkling in the happiest of expressions, he always looked at her like that when they danced. The fall was sudden, and at first everyone thought he was joking. But when Henry didn't move the firehouse paramedics jumped into action. They loaded him into the ambulance and rushed him to the hospital. Snow clutched his hand the entire way, staring blankly at Henry's calmly sleeping face as the paramedic performed chest compressions and tried desperately to restart his old friend's heart.
Snow sat in the emergency room for what felt like hours, her expression cold and her skin icy. It was a mere thirty minutes before a nurse came out and led her to the critical care room. Henry lay on a hospital cot, his shirt cut open, the gray curls covering his chest bared. He was dead—a brain aneurism she was to be told—and for a long time she just stared at the man who had raised her. The man who had loved her when no one else would. In twenty-seven years not a single tear had past her hollow brown eyes. In that moment every one that had been denied release rushed forward. Snow wailed into her father's chest, soaking the soft curls in her sorrow. The grief was unbearable, her screams were heartbreaking and she was inconsolable. Snow's breakdown was so intense that she herself was admitted to the hospital and sedated. Story
Snow woke up three days later, feeling absolutely nothing. She checked herself out of the hospital, claimed Henry's body and began preparations for his funeral. It was a small affair—Henry had no living relatives—with only Snow and the other firemen in attendance. She did not cry. The day after the funeral she was back at work. She did not bother to fake smiles for the patients that came to see her. She spoke only when it was necessary to. Most patients paid it no mind, only one seemed particularly interested in speaking with her. Even as she ignored them they continued to hit on her, complimenting her pale skin, her dark hair and even her cold eyes. Snow simply drew their blood and sent them on their way, staring vacantly as they offered her hand a kiss before making their exit. She ignored the strange warmth that lingered on her skin where they had touched.
That night, while on her way home from a bar nearby the hospital, Snow is attacked by a strange, terrifying creature, only to be saved by none other than the patient who'd been flirting with her earlier that day. They announce that she is to come with them, that they will protect her from those who would pursue her in exchange for one thing. Her blood. They tell her she is their half-sister; the daughter of a demon, a very powerful one at that, and a human. That her blood is rare and powerful, and that of their six other siblings, they who possess her would possess the power to end their father's reign and rule over his domain. Naturally she writes them off as insane and runs. Unfortunately for Snow, shaking off her savior would prove not only impossible, but hazardous. Especially when the others that are after her are not so interested in her preservation.Expecting:
I need a dominant partner to play with this character. Bondage, slight N/C with kidnapping, drugging, blackmail and minimal bloodplay will be involved. I haven't completely worked out the details of the story, so there will be a lot of plot discussion and the chance to tweak it to something we'll both enjoy.Open to suggestions and any changes my partner may want to make.