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For centuries already she had done right by it. Marrying mortal men and immortals alike, taking their torment and anguish against the world and returning it unto them when they time was right. Utt would be no different. For 5 years she tolerated Utt and his violence; took the brunt of his anger instead of letting him take it out on the people around them. She gave him two children — even turned the first from girl to boy for his sake, so he would still have hope to continue on until she could truly damn him. That was Ten — Chittaphon, in the nature of the nariphon that Chrissy herself had helped culminate the mythology of. The magic of the baefa used to alter his birth affected him. From the start of light as he dawned from his mother, Ten was powerful. It was a hardship to teach the boy his truth so young but Chrissy did what she had to; it didn't stop him from growing resentful of his own father, of course, but nothing really would. He was marbled in the light and that meant all the worst of man would always seem too awful for him. Knowing the nights that things got bad made childhood anything but normal — or easy. But it did make things Fun. Ten moved himself through the world with an ease that people never expected. After all, wasn't he the son of that man? And yet Ten seemed as kind as the morning light, always hanging out with other children, dancing and singing and climbing up trees as much as any of the others. Not normal but rather ordinary in its young and magnaminous nature. Which is what made the unexpected become so rather typical. Tuesday, the 23rd of November in 1999: Loi Krathong in Chiang Mai. With his younger brother, Bank, at his side, Ten had gotten used to ignoring break out fights from his parents already. Tiny hands fumbled at building a boat for Bank to shove off on the water as the fireworks went off and the shouting became out and out screams; not of Ten's mother but other ladies around, who watched Utt's head splatter onto his own children. Ten doesn't remember very much after that: the explosions were so bright and colorful that he can't recall it all, just waking up the next day in a cabin with his mother and some people in suits; his requite had blossomed, suddenly, and the men who'd came for revenge against the family were gone now. The damages were being paid for by Chrissy and training... well, she would handle that, too, she said. Proof came in the strength she carried long before Safe Havens were even an imagination. Back and forth from Sarmda they would go. A world where Ten didn't have to sense and feel the sin, the urge to dive in and protect others from it. He could focus instead. He could met what remained of his family line, an ancient heritage dwindling down over the centuries. Home schooling, moving, drifting in and out. Not safe from harm because they never really feared the men who would come after Utt; but Chrissy also knew her children would have friends that could meet danger, could find risk. So the less time they spent in the presence of his influence, of routes and runs that had belonged to him, the better. So, Sarmda drifted to America, and America became the true focus of home. But Ten, the boy who wasn't a boy, whose spirit itself was light too strong to simply bloom but needed to explode, had plans of his own. For as long as Ten had known the world he had sensed the evil he could fight. Chuando was the first man Ten encountered who he truly wanted to stop. It wasn't that others hadn't been evil, really, but they were due to find their justice; Chuando was not. So, Ten welcomed his older charms and made quick work of leaving a hotel room to start living in Chuando's apartment. For a year he bustled to and from, working on buliding his career and coming home to play fuck toy and baby boy to Chuando; it left him in tears until the end, the warning Chrissy had given. A spark in him set off and Ten knew then — he had enough in him to make true moves. The restaurants crumbled and Chuando became less than whole before his very eyes as money drifted from him outward to the world. It was, in its own right, a triumph. From there, it became easier. The light funneled through him and Ten was able to sustain himself, and others, off it; he learned to manipulate his curses, to harness and grow them. He learned, too, to give gifts to the kind men who learned his truths and didn't take advantage of him. Each man became a new challenge, each hero a new reward. It became a balance he could strike behind the scenes as he grew his name and image into something of importance in the world. It never did to make his relationships all that public; even those who had themselves fame or fortune Ten kept to the privacy they needed. It made the transitions easier, made the way they began to crumble all the kinder. Friends, family who knew of him would forget slowly — they would see his light and he would become 'that dancer you used to see, what happened to her?'. Few have ever had the luxury of more; it leaves their minds drenched in paranoia and fear, worries he will return with worse. The rest of life found its way. Between the tangles of lovers good and bad, his career bloomed; Ten worked so often with pop stars he was even given a few shots at being one himself. SM Station singles based in Korea, mostly, sure, but a pop star all the same. It was fun, it is fun, but his heart will always be in guiding and teaching instead. In growing dances that touch and affect people's hearts, more than performing them himself. He teaches once a week, masterclass lessons for those who want to get somewhere, choreographs almost daily and finds his way back to Hawaii to unwind in seclusion with his babies and only the closest of his friends. |
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