........................................................................................................:AVALANCHE:

Name: Dallas Barum Occupation: Gambler Age: Twenty-six

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Weapon Type: Natural defenses; Equips attatchments to his boots. Current model: Stain Crown- A metal fragment varying in shade from bronze to silver sharpened to three deadly points, forming a figure much like a crown. It is attached by bolts in the soles of the fronts of his boots and by a belt made of flexible metal that wraps itself from either side and around his heels. Armor: Carbon Bangle Accessory: Power Wrist Stater Materia: Poison, Steal, Ice Weapon Materia Slots: One single. Equiped with Poison materia. Armor Materia Slots: One double, one single. Joint equipted with Steal and Ice. Height: 6'4" Birth Date: July Eighteenth Birthplace: Costa Del Sol Blood Type: A Dominant Trait: Luck Secondary Trait: Strength Gil: Fifty-six Personality: Being a gambler, fate is something Dallas digs immensely. He works with what he's dealt, leaving things up to destiny. After all, he is just another card in the shuffle. The toss-up is something he almost always does his best to accept, but even he has to beguile things at time in order to make sure things work out in his favor. The flow of life can keep on top most of the time, but he won't let things track themselves all over him. It's not that he is obsessed with winning-he enjoys it but does not absorb himself in it, or losing for that matter-but the thought is always thrilling. Dallas' is far from money grubbing. Gambling is just the perfect way for him to test how long he can go before it finally catches up to him. Doing things which would be considered beyond feasible sense-to put it nicely-is something Dallas is known for. Taking risks is what life is all about as far as he is concerned, boredom making him filled with courage to a high level of senselessness. Give him something that could take his life in the blink of an eye, or at least keep him busy for five minutes, and he'll be satisfied. Once in a lifetime is what he thinks about constantly, so practically goes out and looks for things to get him in trouble. If it had not been for his superhuman luck, he would never have been fortunate enough to come out of all the stupid things he's done alive, but the coin has to land on tails at some point. Starting out, he has an 'every man for himself' attitude, but still keeping his sarcastic and friendly guise. Stick around him for too long and he will start actually helping, quickly establishing the idea that he can work fairly well with company. He is not the image of loyalty with his constant prodding and pestering of his teammates, but he will stay by their sides until something forces him away. Despite his dubious acts, always putting on different poker faces for strangers that should not get to know him, lest they beat the tar out of him if he manages to get something they did not want to give up, his amicable, crossed between an untrustworthy hack and a simple traveler, the part that shines through is his amicable, puckish inside. Once he gets comfortable, which is quick, he cares deeply for his allies in his pestering older brother sort of way. Before meeting up with a group of Rebels, his life was genuinely void of goals, but since being dragged with them back to Corel, witnessing and helping in many of their projects and hearing their conspiracy theories, they have started to wear on him. All the same, he has no where near the drive or ambition as the others, mostly going along with missions because he is told to. He has yet to grasp the same sentiments they have, but it slowly gaining them with the more that is being unveiled. Up unitl now, he has been far too laid back, still stuck in his resort town lifestyle he grew up with, sluggishly crawling out and letting himself become weary about the evils in the world. Appearance: Height, muscles and hair. That is Dallas. He's somewhat handsome, in a rugged sort of way, and his lengthy locks don't give him the 'pretty boy' appearance to any measure that could count. Though dressed fairly clean, his face reveals the impression that he is probably a slacker, even though he looks to be active with his build. Painted with eyes that are always laughing like a vicious storm, Dallas reeks with just reason to be suspicious of him. His face lines up with his occupation almost too well with sharp features, sly, light-tinted eyes and a bit of stubble poking from the skin on his chin from lack of time to shave regularly. Pearly whites are perfectly pale, which is a relief considering how often he flashes people with a smile filled with teeth. Storms blow in his eyes, ranging the tones of grey with every sentiment, often glowing brightly like lightning had struck when he is exited. Costa del Sol has stained him with a permanent tan, on the verge of being dark, but it has faded since he left his hometown several years back. Layers of orange stick out in a crowd easily, especially when they are attached to the scalp of a six-foot four gambler. They start at about collarbone length, tapering down to his hips, the cut straight mostly with on a few off strands escaping the flow. He has it parted close to the middle, bangs lining either side of his face with one stubborn strand refusing to take a side and curling out of the middle of his hairline. The rest of the orange is tied back in a hair tie that fades from sky blue to black, it serving only to secure the longer sections from getting in his face, because it looks anything but styled with chopped strands escaping the tie's hold in multiple places. Swimming for his whole life has resulted in the gambler being able-bodied and toned. He is strapping, but never thinks a thing of it, considering it all came along naturally-lucky him. The trimmed structure is packed with energy, making him useful in a battle for his endurance and raw strength. He is very deltoidistic, but his strong points are his legs, his first choice as a weapon in a brawl. On either hand, his thumb, index and middle fingernails have been replaced with fully functioning talons, dark brown in color, the result of an immature antic from his youth. A second adolescent choice he made was the tattoo of a stylized sun on his right shoulder blade, Indian red in outline with only the smallest strokes of yellow to give it depth. The flames curl sharply, one flare twirling down to his mid back before fading with his skin. Dallas' attire is fairly normal for the most part, the accidents dotted over them the only bit that makes them somewhat unique. The whole outfit begins with a pair of fitting black jeans, his legs slightly smaller than the area allotted within the pants, making a few excess wrinkles towards the top and somewhat baggy the closer they get to his ankles. The are longer than his legs will reach, so the bottom is rolled up so as not to rip if they were to drag on the ground. Two belts cross his hips, but neither even begin to do their job, both crossed over the other, hanging from either side of his pelvis. The one dangling from the right is medium brown with a light shade of stripes, barely noticeably, going along with the direction of the belt. The other is a greyish dirt color, broken up into two inch sections by strips of pale brown plastic. A dull T-shirt, wrinkled and hanging sloppily right over the top of his pants, is the second article in his outfit. It is a pale cream color, nearly white, with sleeves that stop right under his shoulders muscles. Deep navy cover his upper torso, stopping right below his pectoral area, with sleeves that almost drop below his hands. The mini-jacket fits tightly all around his body until below the elbows, where the sleeves spread into a bell style. One button in the front closes and secures it from reopening, made of an iron-silver highbred with a target design on it. From around the collar to the whole bottom of the chest, it is lined with a faded bronze brim, and at the bottom of the sleeves, a geometric design made of two lines borders the openings. The main asset of the garment are the two belts that enring the place where arm holes would be if it was a sleeveless vest. They are made with leather, the same bronze edge the rest of the jacket has, serving as a unifying perimeter, and silver buckles. A chain of silver links acts as a necklace, far from tight in its fitting style. Footwear is nothing but a pair of regular brown boots, conspicuous only due to the materia slots on the inside half and the light belt wrapped across the break in the heals. However, one last thing changes his shoes from regular hiking boots; Attachments can be strapped to them which he uses for his main defense. Currently, they are dressed with a metal crown-shaped spike at the toe end, sharpened and deadly. His form is riddled in contradiction. Parts of him suggest to ward off, keep your distance because he'll rob you blind, while others imply he could be a toy dog dressed up in a spiked collar. It is up to the people around him to decide what he really is. History: It all began in Costa Del Sol. He was raised by a father, loving and caring for his son quite well-this was easy considering the income of the town they lived in. Dallas' mother always traveled, working for Shin-Ra as a traveling secretary. This did not drive her far from her family for long. She often returned at least every two months for a few days to a week. To be truthful, the boy never felt like he was missing a mother figure, considering he was too busy trying to practically drown other children at the beach, pranking tourists, and learning how to swim insanely fast after nearly being devoured by a sea monster. All of his years of early youth were spent there, happily going about being a holy terror with a mob of children who grew into adolescents with pert, saucy attitudes. While with this assembly, he did countless stupid things children ready to turn into young adults did, such as his replacing two fingernails and the thumb on each hand with talons, tattoos and other things actually has yet to regret. Yes, it was all fine and dandy in summerland. Shortly after his sixteenth birthday, his father had news that he was going to Midgar to work with his mother, and that he would be back often to check up on him. The redhead took it in stride, not one feeling of remorse ever creeping into his heart. It had always been business, and now both his parents were involved instead of one. For him, it all felt pretty normal. Dallas was left in charge of their villa, and he kept everything up for a while. When he turned seventeen, boredom struck down like El Nino. He had to get out of that place. It was as if the compact size of the town finally came into his view, and being confined to it was driving him off the deep end. The decision he made was to leave his home in the care of a trusted friend he had almost since birth, Royce. Knowing his parents would probably disapprove of his sudden leave without informing them, he gave lucid instruction as to the things that would need to be told to his parents, and left with nothing but what money he had lying around and a pack with limited supplies, which was soon stolen after stepping out into the world. Dallas' travels were aimed to visit the Gold Saucer first, but he was pushed back by the desert. There was no way through it, and walking all the way to Corel was something he was not up to when outside on his own for one of the first times. He was strong, but with next to no supplies and his low level, monsters lurking in the fields were sure to take him down sooner or later. Instead, he traveled back to the port of Costa Del Sol, using all his money for a ticket to Junon. When he reached the city on the shore, he took a job for a very short amount of time working in a bar, just so he could get enough money to make it to Midgar. Once he did, he crossed the plains, encountering countless monsters and leveling up a good deal, especially when he went through the cave in the mountain range. The thing that got him was the swamps. Inside slithered the Zolom. Death with a forked tongue and Beta. Lord, he nearly died from the fire damage. It forced him back, and he hung out in the caves for a while. Mending and increasing his strength all he could on the beasts hidden within the cavern. It took several more tries before the Zolom finally fell, giving him the chance to hightail it to the plains and the nearest residence, the Chocobo Farm. He stayed a few nights there, paying his bills with what money he stole during battles. From there, he traveled to Kalm, and then Midgar. Up until Meteor came, he remained in the sector five, making a living off his luck by gambling. It never even came to his attention that he could look for his mother and father in the city. When Meteor seemed to be getting too close, he left Midgar, a good choice considering it faced the most damage from Meteor's effects. For a while, he camped out in the Chocobo plains. By this time, he was already twenty-two years of age. Unwilling to return to Midgar, he remained in the grasslands, keeping out of Choco Billy's territory. All there was to do was fight the occasional monster that passed by, but he found a new hobby to entertain himself in a matter of days. Something quite amusing, ambushing chocobos. It served as a good time-passer throughout dull days. It was months, then years he resided in the grass, and while the rest of the world was facing chaos from the afterglow of Holy and Meteor clashing, the effects were very mild in his new home. It remained as thus until it all washed over and the planet began to settle. All he could do to keep himself busy was gain strength and laze about, and once he discovered he could fight against the Zolom without too much difficulty, oh, did he run a muck. It went from chocobos to picking on the poor serpent, and when that became boring, Billy became the target. Purely out of boredom, he decided to sneak into the stables one night a snatch a chocobo, it being a rather rare gold one, unbeknownst to him. After his fun, he let it go, but it just roamed the plains, occasionally passing him buy, but he made no attempt to catch it. One day, something out of the ordinary occurred. It was out of the blue, a battle between a pack of rough-looking people and others in military garb. For a while he watched, seeing how it all went out. All of it seemed pretty well matched, but he favored the scrappy folks. One fell, making the ratio of vigilante to soldier unequal. Whatever power that moved him caused him to join in, taking orders as they were given. Dallas made a deference, but not a huge one; it was still the team work of the people that saved the day. After it was over, he was confronted by what seemed to be the leader, who filled him in on what was going on. It was explained that they were rebels, who they were fighting was some evil company, and that they had to be stopped at all costs. This reminded him of Shin-Ra and the so-called terrorist groups. He never had an opinion on either, even though he probably should have been sided with the large company because of his parents' jobs. He was asked to join them, and agreed to. Since then, he has been traveling with the small band of revolutionaries, working with them on missions even though he doesn't have a strong fill for justice like they do. They have taken him back to his home continent, taking him to Corel, their main headquarters, and has remained under their wing. Limit Breaks: Level 1 Duces grind: He deals two slashing kicks with each leg, all four doing anywhere from strong to critical damage. Capitol Drain: Using his implanted claws, he swipes one enemy, infecting them with a poison spell and pick-pocketing them at the same time. Level 2 Liquid Blitz: In a series of liquid movements, mostly kicks, Dallas barrages the enemy(ies) with seven strong blows, finishing off with pegging a selected individual in the forehead with a pair of dice he carries about. The final assault does little damage, and is used more to distract an enemy with vexation. Moira Roulette: A random selection of his equipped offensive or defensive materia are used. There are always three spells to be cast in the end, but if there is a triple of one materia picked, then it cast it three times on all members of the opposing party. Otherwise, the three attacks are split up and used on three separate members of the opposing party. Healing and barrier type spells could fall into the lineup as well, and they are automatically used on one or all of Dallas' party. Level 3 Fox Den: Tapping his foot three times against the ground and then performing a thunderous stomp, the ground below himself and the enemy gives way. Once both have fallen into the gap, it closes up, leaving them in a small cavern swallowed up entirely by black. Without giving much time for a reaction from the enemy, the gambler shovels out fourteen hits, the pain the cause only medium strength, but it does add up. Once finished, the surface splits once again and vomits them back to the above battle. There is a draw back to this, because it leaves Dallas in rabies afterward. Hazard Table: Tossing his dice, he awaits to see what turns up. Depending on what fate slows the objects to stop on, it inflicts a different type of damage. Most of the time, it ends with a duo of status attacks, but certain numerical values always return the same results. Snake Eyes casts Death on two foes, and Double Sixes causes critical damage to all enemies. Level 4 Juggernaut: Plenty of pain and hurt is on its way if you in the path of this flurry. Here's were Dallas lets it go and allows the fury and rage of battle do their worst. An invisible moon passes through the sky, slowly crossing in the Sun's beams and blocking them out, leaving no trace of the star other than a ring that stretches beyond the boundaries of the false block. Whether the enemy is distracted or not, the redhead rushes one of them, casting a barrage of physical attacks on them, beating them so hard it sends them into the air. It's difficult to count how many there are in the series, but certain blows connect and summon up problems for the enemy like breaks and dismembers. All do severe damage, and are never random-they always strike for vital areas or ones that could slow down anything that may live through the wounds he pounds into them. By the time he's finished bloodying up his prey well enough, the eclipse is complete, the sky sable with it's light source stolen away. With one last hit, he strikes them up into the air high, jumping up after them and once above, sends them back down hard into the ground with a spinning drop of his heel. The physical damage is done to one enemy, but the rest are foolish if they think they get out of this unscathed. While he's still in the air, just before gravity does it's work, the cover over the sun disappears. All of the light returns in the blink of an eye, not fading to give the foes a chance to adjust. Blind and dizzy are automatically brought down on the opposing party, and the juggernaut is complete.