Sweetheart Lain
Muerte
Patissier's mother was single, and all but homeless. The doctors said that if she tested out these new maternity tablets she could make a bit of extra cash, at no risk of the child. "They will either do nothing or enhance your child's brain capacity." So she signed her child's soul away.
At first it seemed like nothing was happening--- Then it hit. She began to slip into deep hallucinations and soon her mind was completely lost. She spent the remainder of her pregnancy strapped down to a bed, asking the nurses "Why won't they let me hold my baby? Why won't they let me hold Patissier?"
At five months pregnant she started feeling a burning pain every so often. After a couple of weeks it was a daily occurrence. Then hourly. Every time these pains came she screamed in agony "It burns, the demon burns!" Nobody paid any attention.
Finally, on a late July night, it happened. At six months pregnant the burning would not stop. She screamed and pleaded for somebody to help her, but nobody came until they could not take her screams any longer. They came in, ready to give her a sedative when they noticed burn marks across her stomach--- slowly growing. She was turning to ash from the inside out before their very eyes. When the doctors rushed in to do an emergency C-section they found they were too late. All that was left was a large pile of ashes--- and something moving amongst it.
Still hot to the touch, doctors cleaned up little Patissier. They didn't ask questions, they didn't want to know. Pansies
As the orphaned Patissier grew up he learned who he was, and what he needed to do to survive. He learned while running from a pack of dogs that he could turn into smoke at will, a feature that has been very handy quite a few times. When his first orphanage burnt down he learned he was abnormally strong and could heal at an accelerated pace. In the fifth grade, when he finally got fed up with being picked on, he let out a roar of anger--- and a fist full of flames. Again, nobody asked questions and left him alone from then on.
On his thirteenth birthday he learned of the downfall to his abilities. When other boys were going through a normal puberty, he was going through Hell. His mental state was cracking and he was falling into a deep, loathsome depression--- then he snapped. His body began to contort, twist, and change into a foul, spike-clad fiery demon. Unable to control himself he went on a rampage, sucking the very souls out of ten people, leaving nothing but their ashes behind, before turning back into his normal self. This happened twice after this before he realized that every so often, he has to willingly "smoke" somebody before he turns and kills more than what is needed.
This led to his night "job"--- Villain hunting, as he puts it. Better than saying "being a hero." He goes out every night stopping criminals, giving them warnings that if they don't stop he will make sure they cannot do it again. Having powers really helps this.When he meets "special" cases--- What he means is, rapists, drug lords, murderers--- Some can argue you're a murderer. Fuck you. Anyway, he will make an exception. Smoke 'em with no further questions. Which is a slow, very painful thing to go through from what I have seen.
When he was fifteen he met Confectioner, who was more than eager to fight along side him. Too eager. Not that I am complaining, he has helped vastly, I just thought I was going to lose him just after meeting him... Two years later he met Baguette, who was spying on her boyfriend with another woman. I asked if she wanted me to smoke him... She proved later on that she never needed my assistance. At the age of Twenty-three he opened his pastry shop, Gothique, with only two staff members in mind.
During his first week of owning his pâtisserie, Gothique, he had cut his finger while grating hazelnut into his marshmallow mixture. As he was bandaging his wound a drop of his blood fell into his mixer--- which then blew up. As he was doing damage control and cleaning up he realized the marshmallow mixture was not completely destroyed, in fact, it became a hoard of living creatures known as the Punkmallow. Little bastards run around devouring things and causing all kinds of ruckus. They can clean up and take a beating like champs, though! Only reason why I keep them around...
