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When you're screaming but they only hear you whisper, I'll be loud for you!

A man like a forest fire. He burns so brightly; physically incapable of holding back his emotions, his impulses, his passions--he’s likely to pull everyone around him into those flames. Seiya refuses to stay silent; he fights for those who can’t fight for themselves with no regards for law or societal standards. He’s always been a bit of a black sheep in that way; in a society where don’t ask don’t tell is the norm, where hushed voices fill the spaces, where hands don’t touch, where the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few--Seiya is screaming, lifting up those few, embracing those that crave touch, fighting tooth and nail against what he feels is wrong, the consequences be damned![break][break]

If someone can’t find their voice; and they’re trying to speak… he will be the one to yell in their name. Speak up! Fight! Love! Don’t hold back anything![break][break]

A shameless flirt who falls in love as easily as he falls in hate. A night spent alone is a night wasted, if you ask him. There is no company quite so soothing as another body, another heart. He can be surprisingly romantic; while he may not commit to any one person--it’s more that his heart is constantly adding rooms inside of it; everything he feels is genuine--and he isn’t shy about showing it. [break][break]

Seiya is a ride-or-die friend; the kind of guy who’ll hop on his bike and drive across the country if he knows he’s needed. His loyalties never falter; time and distance has no effect on how he views others--it’s only actions that impact his relationships. That being said, he doesn’t forget. He never abandons an ally, and he never forgives a foe. Not until that alliance is betrayed, or a wrong is righted. [break][break]

While the firecracker isn’t shy about using his fists, he is incredibly soft-hearted. He fights for morals, fights for what he thinks is right. Often to his own detriment, Seiya is the type to bring fists to a knife-fight and knives or a bat to a gunfight. He just wants to help people; to fix what’s so wrong with this society. The hungry starve in silence and victims are pushed underground to make their streets look prettier; to paint a picture that isn’t real. He doesn’t deal well with morally grey territory; he struggles with black-and-white thinking… Killing someone who hurts the innocent only makes sense; but what if they’re a loving parent? These questions send him spiraling.[break][break]

Honestly; with all of the enemies Seiya has made; he should long-since be dead. But if there’s one constant truth to Kissa Seiya… it’s that he is absurdly lucky in absurdly unlucky situations.
[break][break]

History

Seiya was, and in all honesty, still is a country-boy at heart. Born within the farmlands of Osaka to a loving mother and father; he lived a childhood of both whimsy and hard work. His earliest years were spent wandering Woodlands and exploring shrines. Seiya had a fascination with deities, yokai, the wonderful beings of myths, legends, and dogma.[break][break]

His grandmother had no small part in that little obsession; a woman with love and respect for tradition, but a flexible heart that saw when certain ideas may have become… outdated. She taught her doting grandson the beauty of everyday magics; the smiles you bring to people's faces when you bring them homemade cookies, the blooming flowers, the growing crops, the fresh air and running water… she instilled in him a strong love for life and all its wonders.[break][break]

In his younger years; he was nothing more than a charismatic little boy who had a habit of dragging off his close friends and little brother, Maro, to go on adventures. Once he got a little older though; when he realized how cruel others could be; he turned into somewhat of a spitfire. A little hellion in his hometown. His friends slowly dwindled to just a few--and those few were his everything. His ride-or-die, closer-than-blood best friends Yuki and Hotaru. Their families were all intertwined; close-knit and filled with love. He and Hotaru fought hard to protect the weaker kids in town; latching to their sickly friend who always helped take care of them--their bond was utterly unbreakable; a trio that would surely stick together through thick-and-thin.[break][break]

Well, that’s what he thought.[break][break]

Tragedy struck Hotaru’s family; they saw their great protector less and less as time went on… Something had changed in him; how could it not have? Yuki had to go traveling with his family and… Suddenly, Seiya was alone.[break][break]

Well, aside for his blood family. [break][break]

Seiya dedicated himself entirely to taking over the family business; working the cafe almost on his own while trying to get through highschool. He drowned himself in that goal; it was his everything. He brewed coffee and tea with the best of them; for the few years that he worked at the cafe, it thrived. He drew in customers with his flare--his charisma and pretty face certainly didn’t hurt! When customers tasted his home-baked goods and lovingly brewed beverages, well, they kept coming back.[break][break]

Of course; flames seem to follow Seiya. In the dead of night; the cafe burned to cinders.[break][break]

That night signaled the end of an era. While his happiness had already begun to dwindle in the absence of his friends… That fire signaled the start of his descent into hell. His parents fell ill; their lungs simply refusing to draw in air-- one morning while coming in to tend to them; their white pillows had turned Scarlet. [break][break]

With his grandmother already weak in her older years, and Seiya struggling just to earn enough for food; they lost their family’s farm. Left in a small shed-of-a-home with his grandmother as their legal guardian; it fell to Seiya to raise and care for his little brother and grandma. For two years he managed. Two long, terrible years--watching the woman who made him who he was, deteriorate and fade to nothing. In the dead of night; she too, was gone… and then, there was only Seiya to care for Maro; even that shed forfeit; it became harder and harder to survive.[break][break]

The systems in-place for homelessnes only look nice on the surface because they hide away the reality of those that have lost it all. They were tucked away and forgotten. [break][break]

Is it any wonder that in the end, he lost him too?[break][break]

That baby boy that he held in his arms so soon after he took his first breath; drew his last in Seiya’s arms.[break][break]

The unbreakable man shattered; and for a time--he just allowed the flames of rage and sorrow to take him. He destroyed anything that sparked that bitter hatred; in and out of jail cells for beating the absolute hell out of anyone he saw who would dare lay a finger on those he saw as innocent.[break][break]

He got better at not getting caught; better at moving quickly. Better at targeting the people who most deserved his ire. He was beaten and bloodied; angry at the world he only wanted to love. He drowned his sorrows in booze and sex. After time; his fires cooled to something more manageable; that charismatic grin finding his features again--sick of scaring, of hurting people who didn’t deserve it. [break][break]

Seiya’s life had become a whirlwind of uncontrollable chaos; and he found himself face-to-face with some Tsumaru bastards; a bullet in his stomach--certain that he’d finally met his end; that he’d see his family again soon…[break][break]

He did, but not the family he expected to be reunited with.[break][break]

Hotaru was the one who came to save his life that night; he made quick work of those damned muscle-headed thugs. Still that same loving savior he always was when they were growing up… Brought to some beautiful doctor--he made it through the night and awoke in that penthouse apartment. [break][break]

That was just three years ago, now. [break][break]

That living forest fire now lives comfortably with his old best friend, working a number of day jobs, and taking to the streets at night. A freeman vigilante who rides on his luck; brass-knuckles his tool of choice to punish wandering hands and hired guns. Especially rough on those who dare to lay their filthy mitts on women or children; a strong sense of honor guides his hand.[break][break]

Appearance

Height: 6'0"[break]
Weight: 180lbs[break]
Hair: Shoulder-length & wavy. A deep brown 'natural black' like that of dark roast coffee. [break]
Eyes: While technically brown; they are exceptionally red in hue. Many would describe them as crimson. [break]
Piercings: Both of Salem's earlobes are pierced; though he usually keeps subtle studs in them.[break]
Tattoos: [None as of yet?][break]
Scars: While they aren't very noticeable; Salem does have a pletora of scars from a past of constant fighting. Most notably: There is a small slash at the base of his neck; only about 2cm in length--the scar tissue is only somewhat raised. He has a handful of similar markings on his back; these are however a bit more noticeable. Four moderately deep cuts about 3" in length are located where is neck meets his shoulders; two close to his right shoulder-blade; and one at the small of his back.[break]