Raising Hell

Hands That Summoned Hellfyre

The legend goes like this; a man is born of a human mother and a demon father, some say it's one of the princes of hell. The man is said to be both blessed and cursed of the remaining divinity of the fallen angel turned demon of his father and the fragility of his human mother. To conceal who he really is, he wears different masks; whatever he would wear depends on necessity.

Until comes a carefree and sheltered prince in his life. The prince knew nothing but love—something the man doesn't have a mask for. Little by little, the masked man tries to show the prince a part of his face. That is until, his two worlds collide and to darkness he lost the prince; something the masked man is aware is a part of him, something he was warned not to play with, yet he risked it all for the prince.

The story he heard from Tankhun as their mama told it to them never really made sense to Kim. He didn't have a lot of memory of their mother; unlike his brothers. Aside from these stories, all Kim knew is that his mother was someone more ruthless and unforgiving as per the story of those who had been with the family when she was alive. When she was still the head executioner of their father.

Ruthless and unforgiving – something Kim heard people describe him. Mostly from people who are either at the end point of his gun or people with their necks kissing the blade of his knife. During those moments, Kim thinks he is mostly himself. The real him, as far as he could tell, is the extension of their family to do the impossible – if you'd like it to be more discreet that is. If not, they could always turn to Vegas.

Like the man in the legend, Kim wears many masks. There's the one for his father, for Kinn, for Tankhun, for the people within the mafia world, for his people outside of the mafia world, and of course, the mask he is closest to the most - Wik.
The very same mask that invited his very own prince into his dark and sinister world. The mask that started the misery and pain he would inflict on both of them.

Kim tends to elude human emotion as much as he can; in moments when he can't, he tends to pick-up his guitar and let the melody in his head string the words he cannot directly say. For the longest time it has been his comfort–the music he makes has always been his moment of peace and clarity in the midst of chaos he'd been born into. The songs, the melodies, the tunes, they're his friends he knew could never betray him as he knows trustworthy someone is a bejeweled rarity in his life.

If that is the case, if human emotion truly is something Kim could control, why then is he fuming and almost reaching for the gun sitting on the passenger seat of his car as he watches Porchay inside a cafe; shyly smiling at someone with a smile that was once reserved for him?

The moment Porchay and the other man exited the Cafe, the nameless guy immediately puts his arm around Porchay, a gesture the younger seems to be uncomfortable with as Kim observes by the way he's squirming. He can see Chay trying to distance himself as amiable as possible, but the other man won't budge. In fact, he moves to walk off with Porchay and the younger is definitely in panic mode now.
Kim decides right there and then that enough is enough. He gets out of his car and approaches the two. With the rage pent up tonight, he lands a punch at the man and steps on his chest when he tries to get up.

"Stay down!" He almost sounded animalistic to Porchay's ear. Something more than what he heard during that one time at a club.

"P'Kim," Chay calls out softly. If there's one thing he realized living in the compound, sometimes, the best way to deal with a fiery Theerapanyakul is calmness and a sense of serenity. 'They are not raised the way I raised you, Chay. All they know is chaos and a sense of survival in any means necessary.' Porsche explained to him once when he witnessed a particular nasty fight between Kinn and his brother. "P'Kim, I'm here." He calls again. This time reaching out to hold the other' s arm.