Dallas Winston

[yolanda7h]

DALLAS EARL WINSTON




"Hardened beyond caring"

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Alias: Yols
Other Characters: Harry "Hamlet" Chandler
Rewritten City Found Via: makin' it
Contact: PM, MSN, AIM
Comments: Excuse that pic above, but its just so dally its not even funny lol. Also, I'm axing the watson/sherlock plot I had outlined for dally since we have new players for those characters now and a lot of the plotting has been put on hold for too long. So Dal's here fresh, though at the moment he's back in jail for fighting.
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00I. full name Dallas Earl Winston
0II. canon or original canon, The Outsiders
III. years of age 19
0IV. orientation (optional) heterosexual
00V. social status low class
0VI. occupation full time trouble maker. other than that, he struggles to keep a job at the race track.

00I. play by Josh Hartnett
0II. body type fit
III. height 6' 2
0IV. eyes color dark brown
00V. description When you look at Dallas, you know three things. He's tough, he's cold, and he's mean. He has mostly lengthy dark hair. He's master at hiding his emotions (if he harbors any at all) and its hard to read him most, if not all of the time. He's simply a rock. His stature is tall, strong (not exactly due to muscle but due to confidence), fit, and conditioned for physical fighting. His squinty eyes can stare right through a person, no matter how big or how tough. When he's mad, they can get shifty and manic. For everyone else, its a sign not to mess around. He has a Celtic tattoo on his back that he got just because. His wardrobe mostly consists of jeans, graphic t-shirts, jackets and the occasional hoodie, all in dark colors. He often wears white wife beaters. He usually goes for anything cheap that he can just throw on.

00I. overall personality Dally is exactly the way he looks. Very tough, very cold. Living out on the streets, juvie, being in jail, has made him numb to a lot of things. In other words, he holds hatred to "the whole world." The people that matter most do not care whether he's alive or dead and he's been exposed to things simply unimaginable at a young age. This has made him view the world as his playground, his playground without rules. He sees no reason to become attached, or invested in other people because the world has shown him that it doesn't pay. It only pays to fend for yourself. Through his eyes, the world is only full of people who want to kill each other and either they act out on that impulse or they don't. Either way, there is no point in caring.

Because of this, he's blunt, crude, unapologetic, and tougher than most. He's wild, and some may argue...just a bit crazy. He takes pride in his notorious reputation and police record, and everyone knows you just don't mess with Dallas. You don't tell him what to do. You don't argue. He holds no hesitation in hurting someone. No filter. Nothing. It'll be just you and Dallas' fist.

Yet somewhere in Dallas there's a soft spot, it's just extremely hard to get to. He is extremely loyal to the Greasers, especially Johnny Cade. He likes to have fun, being going to parties, causing ruckus when he can, or going to movies - and without hesitation, he'll help out anyone he's loyal to. But really, the only thing he will do honestly is racing horses as a jockey. He will also put himself and his life on the line when it comes right down to it.

He likes causing trouble, doing something illegal, parties, getting under people's skin, annoying people, fighting, substances (alcohol, smoking, drugs, you name it, though he's not exactly addicted to any of them), sex, having fun and being spontaneous - anything that causes an adrenaline rush. He lives on the edge - i only because he doesn't know anything else, and he's good at being bad.

0II. strengths Fighting/Physical strength, Hiding his emotions, Intelligent when it comes to fending for himself/being independent/surviving, Riding/betting horses
III. weaknesses Hiding his emotions, Unfiltered and impulsive, Addiction to trouble/causing trouble, The fact that one day he's going to seriously...snap. And everyone knows it.
0IV. goals His idea of life is to do as much damage as possible and have as much fun as you can doing it. Besides...everyone else is, whether they admit it or not. Other than that, he hasn't thought about or considered any goals for his life. There really isn't much of a point in that for him.

00I. notable family & friends

• Michelle Winston & John Williams, parents (separated and very, very loosely called "family")
  
  
• The Greasers, friends (Includes Buck Merill who he stays with often, and Tim Shepard - though Dal doesn't treat them as such very often)
  
  
• Eponine, flirt buddy/friend

0II. overall history
One of the officers stood against the wall. He was nearly bald and had a look on his face. A look of pity. Or anger. A condensing look most likely. Whatever it was, Dally didn't like it. He sat back in his chair, at the table, with face of stone. Arms crossed over his chest.

"This guy thinks he's real cool, doesn't he? A real smart ass." Baldy said.

Dally gave a hint of a smirk. "Well, you know...I don't react well to cops."

Baldy approached the table, put both hands on it, leaned on it. Probably an attempt to be threatening. Didn't worl. "Get that grin off your face. What, you think this is a game?"

Dally kept eye contact with him. He didn't flinch. His voice deep and dark he said, "Hm. I kinda think its real goddamn funny,"

The other officer, blonde hair, a real gallant looking fella, approached shuffling through papers. "...let's just get this shit over with." He pulled up a chair and sat in it backwards. Baldy reluctantly pulled up a chair as well.

"State your full name." Blondie commanded.

Dally sighed with a bit of boredom. "Dal. Dallas Earl Winston."

"Where do you stay?" Looks like Blondie would take charge of this little interview.

"Around."

"You don't have a permanent residence?"

Dally sighed again, rolling his eyes. "What the fuck, you guys can't hear worth a shit - didn't I say 'around'?"

Baldy decided to jump in. "Look, if this is you avoiding our questions--"

"East side of Windrixville. That's where my folks stay." He finally told them.

"Do your folks know you're here?" Blondie asked.

Dally looked at the both of them for a moment, as if they asked the dumbest question in the world. To Dally, they did. "They don't give a shit where I am." He said, nonchalant and emotionless. His parents partied through most of their teen years and adult life and partied themselves into having a child they didn't want. His dad's only role in Dally's life was paying child support. His mom used it for her drug addiction. Dally stayed on the streets for most of his childhood and teen years. His dad told him he was a mistake.

"Yeah, no kidding." Baldy mumbled.

"You work?" Blondie asked, moving on.

"Yeah."

"Where?"

"Got a job up at Belmont Park as an assistant trainer and a jockey." Dally explained. Since he was on probation around the time he was 14, he was forced to volunteer. At Belmont Park, he took care of the horses, prepared and groomed them. He liked it and the workers gave him a job. He met one of his good friends, Buck Merill there. They gambled on the races and make a good amount of money. Buck betted on the rigged games. Dallas didn't. "That was before I got put in at least."

Blondie shuffled through the papers. "How many times where you arrested?"

"Ain't that all in my records, big man?" Dally asked coolly. "Impressed, ain't ya?"

"Yes," He looked up. "But I just want to see if you can be honest for once in your life."

"There was one time - too bad you missed it buddy." he said, dead pan.

"Answer the question." Baldy demanded.

"Shit," Dallas swore without any intensity and sat back in his chair. "Hell if I know. You guys always seem to get me for somethin, right?" His dark eyes snapped towards Baldy. "Better watch your fuckin tone with me and geez why don't you put on a hat or somethin', your head is blindin' me, how the heck am I supposed to answer questions when you got baldy over here - "

Baldy started to stand but Blondie quickly continued his questioning over Dal's talking, interrupting him. "Says here more than 10. Actually, your first arrest was at the age of ten."

For the first time, a smile spread across Dally's face. A smile of pride. "Got that right."

"And you were in prison for about a year. Just recently got out on good behavior. Involved with a gang shooting, is that right?"

Dallas rudely turned his head and spit on the ground. "Yeah." He said, no remorse in his tone whatsoever. Got involved in a bad situation at the wrong time. At 16 he went on a wild rampage for three years in New York's toughest streets, getting mixed up in all kinds of mess. One of them being rival gangs. Two hoodlums he was staying with at the time decided to rush a member of a rival gang. Attempted shoot and run. Unfortunately they got caught. Dallas had nothing to do with the murder but he was prepared to kill anyone who stood in their way. They found the gun on his person and he was found guilty with the rest of them.

"And let me guess, you weren't the one that pulled the trigger." Baldy said incredulously.

Dally gave a mischievous grin. "Not that time. What's it to you anyway, you can't hold me on that - got out on good behavior."

"Yeah, you're free now. Why mess it up by stealing? Says you..." Blondie looked at the papers again. "Says you were with a group at the time?"

"Yeah." They were the Greasers. Bunch of guys who lived on the east side. The name stuck because they were the ones on the poor side of town. The side of town where the guys wear their hair long, wear messy clothes, and drive run down cars. The side of town where the only businesses that could be sustained were gas stations, and dying used car establishments where many people worked. Lots of dirty, greasy clothes in that part of town. Kinda why the name 'Greasers' stuck.

Dally met the gang of Greasers not long after he was put on probation. He became good friends with them. They were a knot in Dally's philosophy for the world. After telling himself he wouldn't do shit for anyone else, he kept to that rule. But he caught himself being stupid many times when it came to the Greasers. One time he took the blame for Two-bit Mathews breaking some windows. That explained one out of the many arrests on his record. And Johnny Cade. Dally thought that, maybe, he'd do anything for that kid.

"Says that you were attacked not long before the incident?"

"That's what you call that?" Dally retorted. "That wasn't an attack. It was a sorry ass attempt at trying to be tough. Damn Socs."

Socs. Short for 'socials.' Those were the people that lived on the other side of Windrixville. The west side. The middle class side. As far as Dally was concerned, the rich side. The side that drove sports cars, worked at country clubs, had everything handed to them. Needless to say, the Socs and the Greasers didn't get along. The rivalry was long standing.

Dally was getting bored. "Listen, you guys gonna put me back in jail or what? I'd rather be there than sit here with you and play 21 questions." He rolled his eyes. "Shit...you ain't got proof I stole anything anyway. I already told you it wasn't me. "

Blondie looked at Baldy for a moment. They always had suspicions that whatever happened in New York was Dallas' fault. It wasn't even exciting anymore. Usually they just took him in without any reason. They thought they'd find one. 9 times out of 10 they were right. But this time...

Blondie sighed and shook his head. "We can't get him on this. We've got nothing on him."

Baldy slammed his hands on the table and stood, outraged. "What do you mean we've got nothing on him?"

Blondie shrugged apologetically. "He's a juvenile delinquent. As a lot of those kids in the store. He wasn't on surveillance and we searched him at the scene. Nothing."

Dally looked at them, unimpressed. "You done?"

III. sample post

Dally drove into the gas station in his black 2004 Acura, windows down, his car blasting some Papa Roach song. His arm rested out the window, a cigarette between his fingers, as he pulled up to the auto repair area. It was a fuckin' sauna out, and all Dally had on was a grey wife-beater shirt and jeans. But because it was hot out, that meant everyone was out doing some shit and causing some trouble, and Dal was no exception. He hadn't heard an ear full from the cops and he was feelin' pretty damn confident he got away with the good bit of cash he stole some time ago.

So he decided to stick around for a bit, at least until he got tired of Sylvia's bullshit - which will probably be soon. In fact, Dally eyed the girls at the station in the short shorts and low neck t-shirts - it was the best part of summer. The girls just threw their clothes off like it was nothing. He stopped his car and stuck his head out the window.

"Hey!" he shouted at one of the girls putting gas in her car. He leaned out the window a bit. "You know how work that thing?" He teased with a smirk.

"Get lost, asshole," she snapped at him.

"What? You just look like you could use some help. You know if you bend over you can --"

"Oh my god! I dont need your help just get outta here!"

"Whatever you say, chick." Dally grinned to himself and suppressed a laugh as he drove off. A bunch of idiots were blocking the pathway to the garage Steve worked at and Dally obnoxiously honked his horn at them, causing somewhat of a scene. Sticking his head out the window he shouted "Get outta my fuckin' way, you dumbass!"

SYR INTEGRA of CAUTION 2.0 created this, modified by Yols with Shakespeare lines.

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I'd probably have some high praise for you if I weren't so distracted by the paired image and caption. xD From what little thoughts I've pieced together after laughing myself into an early grave, your Dally is a brilliant character. Hell of an ass (that too ), but we love him that way and he wouldn't be Dally otherwise. <3

Accepted!