[b]Name:[/b] Antonio Esparza
[b]Gender:[/b] Male
[b]Age:[/b] Twenty-Four

[b]Appearance:[/b]

An untidy mop of curly hair partially obscures a somber face.  Under that mess lie two bright eyes underscored by prominent sags -- indication of many sleepless nights.  Protruding from this face is a long but thin nose, and under that nose is a perpetual frown sometimes used to speak and eat.  Such is the face of Antonio Esparza, a 5'10", sunburned pillar of melancholic body language. Despite a fairly athletic build and healthy weight, Antonio manages to somehow look incredibly haggard via a slouching gait and rather ragged clothing.  His well-worn work shirt is now more grease stain than white, and his jeans, similarly tarnished, sport several holes of varying sizes.

[b]Occupation:[/b] Factory Maintenance Worker

[b]Inventory:[/b]

[list]
[*]Penlight
[*]Small notepad, ink pen
[*]Wallet, containing $34.42, driver's license, and an expired Wendy's coupon
[/list]
[b]Background:[/b]

The sadness that seemingly defines Antonio Esparza's life began three years ago with the sudden death of his older sister, Mari.  A vehicle collision, in which he himself had been the driver.  He escaped the accident with a scar on his shoulder; Mari had no such fortune.  A guilt-ridden Antonio left the funeral and attempted to drown his sorrow in alcohol.  It must have been a cruel joke played by god, then, that he found his attempts foiled by an abnormal tolerance to liquor.  Following that, his next course of action was simply attempt to "move on" and hope forgiveness would come in time.  That plan didn't work, either.  That plan [i][b]still[/b][/i] isn't working.
[hr]

I hope I did a good enough job on Appearance; I'm not much good at lengthy descriptions of a single thing.