Dallas Warren 💛

Dallas was orphaned from near birth, and placed into fostercare after spending his childhood being a handful of disruption and rebellion in the orphanage. But the system of fostering was good to him, and early on he found his way into the lavish, rich home of his soon to be adoptive 'uncle' and 'aunt.' The two were older adults, Mr. Maynard found himself often alone and bored in spite of the many parties he entertained when his distant wife was away. So he adopted Dallas, whose troubling, obnoxious and reckless behavior found itself to be a surprisingly welcome contrast to the organized wealth of Dallas's childhood home. Thus, his youth was molded by privilege, and tolerance, even if he never developed a sense of closeness or deep affection to his adoptive parents. His grace through life would be halted by his intermission into a widescale foreign conflict, a war that still saw him spared in his role as a simple messanger. A radio-boy. Dallas's irritating, moody behavior that had been stalled for so long in his prim homelife didn't have any bounds now. He hated that he'd been shipped off, and for "disciplinary messures" at that. He lacked a complete sense of companionship to anyone or any cause. Until, in the summer of 1967, he met an enlisted soldier named Chauncy Hollis. And there would develop something characterized by a violent intimate fear.

Hollis took to the boy that had seemed to isolate himself from everyone, who's brash nature had thwarted off the older draftees and made him percived only as some rich brat. The two grew close, deeply close, as the collected and soft nature of Hollis became a crutch for Dallas's constant anger which stemmed from nowhere and embedded itself in everything. They spent as many days as they could in the sun, talking, falling into sync and comfort. But Hollis grew protective- always there, always watching, with uncanny kindness that lacked a sense of warmth. Dallas didn't realize that he was only a replacement of someone long dead in Hollis's life. It took one bad day that would alter them, and reveal that Dallas's identity was not his own in his friend's eyes. To him, Dallas was a reincarnation of a memory: nothing but a chance for self redemption to Chauncy. One bad episode occured, a grenade was set off and the blood was on Dallas's hands. Chauncy took to immoral means to cover it up, and it spiraled into a confrontation that would in turn spiral into a physical quarrel of near attempted murder.

The episode is lost to Dallas's memory now, dischargment occured after that and the remanent memory of his friend-turned pyschotic stirred only in his dreams. Dallas Warren found his brashness and temper to be the root of all of his self-resentment, and he buried himself in deep pyschological repressment of the first 18 years of his life. He killed contact with anyone he knew, he isolated himself until he buried the hatchet of what he saw, what he knew Chauncy had been capable of. And he remade himself. Dallas became a successful businessman, a simpleton, dimwitted adult who fixed himself up with polite hospitality and a winning charm. The present Dallas scored a wife by the name of Connie, but this newfound fragility of their marriage and his comfortable persona would be bent out of shape by an uncharged paranoia and the return of Hollis. Blocking out the past meant blocking out any and all knowledge of what happened to his attempted murderer, after all.