In those five minutes of extra sleep, he loses five minutes of shower time. Doing in ten minutes what he usually does in twenty, by the seventeenth minute he is fully dressed— but only half ready to leave. The clothing and duffle bag he abandons because he doesn’t have the time to fix them; it makes squishing down the narrow staircase much easier, and the lack of dead weight on his shoulders only helps his sprinting once he’s on the sidewalk.
Ironically, it isn’t anything material that slows him down, but the thought that he might have not locked the apartment door in his hurry to leave. He glances back at it momentarily, literally one second, before smacking right into a big wall of white, a white, fleshy someone.
Who the crap is this guy?!
—is what he thinks, since obviously he is in no position to scream obscenities.
“Christ, sorry!” Antonio pats his own chest, then pounds. “You okay there? Okay, good.”
Antonio claps the wall of person on the back, looking over his shoulder for a street sign. Lincoln, Lincoln street is what he’s looking for, the street he’s supposed to be on. There’s the bus stop, but where’s the store? For remembrance he squishes the blond’s shoulder. Thoughtfully.
“—Oh, wait, do you know where this is?” His mobile is pulled out and promptly put in the other’s face. “S’posed to be ‘round here, isn’t it?”

Uuhuhuuuu~
[He already checked his phone when he woke up about an hour ago, reading the message—
Despertarse. To wake up. Levantarse. To get up. Both reflexive. Only one actually done.
Antonio had done the former but not the latter and thus, slipped back into sleep when he should have gotten up, up, up!
Today, this day, was important! Today was the day he had to be at…the thing. The government thing. The thing that would act as a surrogate mother for him in his time of need, providing him with a home, food, the things that his mother said he couldn’t get with a job.]
In hyour face, maaa..
[With a sniffle he rolls over in bed, crushing the pillow to his chest because how could you do this, mommy. How could you throw out your precious little son like that even if he is— was— a no good for nothin’ sack of potatoes on the couch?
Wait.
That noise.
Eventually his hand smacks down onto the right object, his cell phone, putting up to his face so he can see it.]
When th’ fuck did I hit slooze.
[It’s so hard to get up in the morning but someone has to do it. And for the next five minutes, it definitely won’t be him.]
Ahora te sigue tomatianpirate
OH! Oh my gosh. I didn’t know there was like a history convention or something around— Do you do accents? Do the accent— please.

Pleeeeeasssee.
Ahora te sigue handsofftheharley
I wasn’t aware that there was going to be a concert ‘round here of all places.

But looking at you I think I can see why they have chosen not to advertise it.
Ahora te sigue saudadesandfado
Do you need help crossing the street, Rapunzel?

Your hair might just go flying away in this wind and smack someone in the face, or, get run over by the cars.
Gotta stay safe, you know?
My ooc page isn’t showing up ´w` but other than that and the relationships page (which for obvious reason is still in the works), this bitch is set. Ba-boom.
➤ Height. 5’10”
➤ Weight. 165 lbs. heavy
➤ Skin. “Exotic”
➤ Hair. dark brown/black
➤ Eyes. green
Athletic ‘trapezoid’ body; broad chest with a slim waist and wide hip flare, bottom more heavy than the top, most of his power in his arms and legs.
His hair is a mass of dark, thick curls, growing out and in all directions like a bush and swallowing whatever it feels like. Like his hair his eyelashes and eyebrows are dense, but he keeps the latter maintained. If you touch the back of his head, you’ll find a small scar from his childhood, having hit his head on the headboard of his bed— hard.
His face is slightly diamond shaped, the cheekbones high, jaw strong but small. His bottom lip is fatter than his top lip, mouth wide, nose slightly bent at the bridge in an aquiline manner, and prominent, dark lime coloured eyes.
On his lower stomach/right hip he has a birthmark that can only be described as café au lait spot or splotch.
Background. Antonio was born in a city just north of Orvelle, smaller, quieter; its liveliest sector was the downtown area, and besides its affordable and actually sort of decent housing, it was not much to brag about. His parents emigrated there from post-Franco Spain in the late 70s, having him the winter of ‘87 and raising him amidst a small flower shop they ran until 1997, shutting it down in order to make bigger money for his seemingly bright, bright future.
Antonio’s power doesn’t surge until he is far older, just six months shy of finishing his fourth and final year in the university; like a power outage, it strikes everyone within a football field’s distance, shutting their powers down only for a few seconds. The amount of energy given out within that small frame of time drains his energy dry and he effectively passes out. Albeit only for three seconds, it was still enough to grab the attention of the government.
Taking this for a health scare (and excuse to escape the evil clutches of school), he drops out and dives under the protection of his parents, spending the next few years mooching off of them, grabbing a few jobs here and there but never anything really permanent.
Realizing that he’s been babied for far too much, Antonio is kicked out by his mother, cut off from their help until he has actually made an effort to support himself.
Once back in the public eye, around supers, his powers act up again in small spurts— being much more of an educated man now, he recognizes them, and starts sparking it purposefully, searching for reactions amongst the people of Orvelle. Holding it for a few seconds, he’ll shut down a train car, scope out those with the strange looks on their faces, and then try again on those he’s singled out.
His activity is picked up on soon enough by the agency and recognizing him as the boy from the university a few years ago, he’s snatched up into its bosom, not exactly extraordinary compared to the others but very useful in certain situations.
Goals. Antonio wants two things: prosperity, and leisure. It’s his current obsession with the latter that has kept him from achieving the former.
He sees this heroism as something to do for now, building up good vibes and all that until he decides what he wants to do for the rest of his life.