The probability of success is miniscule.

Thomas dispersed from his unit, trotting with a sense of urgency towards his commander, sweat coating his freckled face, leaking from his curly ginger hair, seeping into his blue eyes, and ruining his black war paint. His breath is heavy, every muscle and bone in his body sore and bruised to the point of numbness, but his own willpower prevents him from collapsing onto the ground, no matter how inviting it may seem, and stood at attention as he waited for the commander to relay his final attack plan.

The formally dressed commander placed his hands behind his back, and smiled up towards Thomas. Even though the ginger was a half foot taller than his average sized leader, the former's confident presence dwarves the latter's by a non-humorous amount. After a deep inhale, the commander, albeit with a thick southern drawl, spoke with the authority of a god, his voice resonating the young adult's very soul. "Y'all ready to pull a miracle oughta yer ass Private?"

Thomas nodded, his voice cracking, his lungs crying in pain as he tried his best to sound as confident as his leader. "Yessir!"

"Good." The commander whispered a series of coded orders into Thomas's ear, then made sure the boy understood what he must do. "Now, go make me proud boy!"

"Yessir!" Thomas immediately turned about face back towards his unit, his sense of urgency quadrupled as he rushed back towards them. Waiting patiently for their leader, the members of Thomas's unit made room for him to join the huddle, listening attentively to the orders. "Eagle-5 Gambit, Eagle-5 Gambit. Ready!?"

"Break!"

The sounds of the cheering crowd returned to Thomas Private's ears, despite the padding from the helmet , as the ten members of his team, the Central High Rangers, separated and moved towards their positions. The five largest members, who would be better described as hulking masses of muscle and fat with some sort of strength-enhancing quirk, rushed foward at a pace surprising for their size, and lined up foots-length apart in a curved straight lined, the center of the group grasping an oblong shaped ball made of brown pigskin in his mighty grip while the other four shot their outermost arms toward the ground with a force so great it would be hard to believe that their fingertips are gently grazing the green turf. The five smallest members, all equipped with speed or agility quirks, spread farther out, three towards the right of Thomas, and two to his left, and after telling the referees where they are lined up, looked back towards the ball and prepared themselves to run.

The other team, the Northwood Wildcats, were also spread out, but more so than Thomas' team. While the Rangers had five large linemen, the Wildcats had only three, and it could even be said that they only had one, with the other two being larger speedsters. The other eight Wildcats were spread out over the entire other half of the field, dividing the octet at the halfway point between the ball and the end of the field. If Thomas had to guess, the coverage would be similar to Cover 4, with only a three man rush. It made sense; this is going to be the last play of the game, and the Rangers were down five points. A field goal would only score three points, so the only choice they have is to go for the six-point touchdown and get the ball from the middle of the field to the end of the field, the end zone. Thomas's coach is too straightforward to try anything fancy, so his solution is the all too famous "Hail Mary."

Thomas exhaled deeply as he visualized every single step of the play. Once the referees blew their whistle…

Tweet!

He would first call the cadence…

"Ready! Green-55! Green-55!"

He would then set his players, preparing himself to catch the ball from the center lineman…

"Set!"

Finally, he would start the play, catching the ball from center…

"Go!"

Before Thomas could even start making the sound "g" makes, the ball is launched in between the center lineman's legs, his hands, as well as the hands of the other large linemen, fly up and push back upon the enemy blitzers. Thomas easily caught the ball, his focus going beyond the horizon of the moving mountains in front of him and towards the other members of his team, as they tear down the field faster than cheetahs chasing gazelle.

He would first count two full Bullhandlers before using his secret technique…

'One Bullhandler, two Bullhandlers…'

Finally, he would use his secret technique and launch that ball across to the other side of the field at formula one speeds.

Thomas takes a skip step foward, rotating his hips, shoulder, arm, elbow, and wrist in one, fluid motion, forcing an all too familiar resonance through his forearms, then the split moments the ball left his fingers…

Bwoom!

A thundering sound resounds from the palm of his hands, the force from the shockwave forcing the ball to quintuple in speed and fly down the field faster than the crowd could track it.

And Devon, his best friend and the ace player who has been practicing with him since Freshman year three years ago, will leap towards the sky and catch that ball.

Due to the size of volume of the surrounding crowd, the collective gasps from the fans could be heard across the state of Texas as a single, impossibly loud gasp as the ball zooms through the field, and then when the realization hits that the teammate of the quarterback who just threw that ball at mach million speeds miraculously has the ball in his hands, the stadium returns to a pandemonium that made the gasp a moment ago seem like a whisper.

As Thomas realized that he has indeed pulled a miracle out of his ass, pain and soreness was soon overwhelmed by an overload of dopamine and endorphins, as the pain in his throat no longer seemed to matter as he doubled the volume of the crowd, sprinting towards Devon, with every member of the team, the entire team, ran towards Devon and Thomas, raising both players to the sky as heroes.

"Hell fucking yeah!" Devon shouted. "We did it Tommy! We're the fucking heroes!"

Thomas smiled as he took off his helmet and shook his drenched ginger locks, that word resounding in his head.

'We're the fucking heroes!'

Name: Private, Thomas
Hometown: San Antonio, Texas
Quirk: Sound Waves
Thomas Private is able to create sound waves and release them through the pores in his palms. He is also able to control the flow of which the sound waves are released, being able to release them in an instantaneous burst or a drawn out whistle.

Shshshshshshshp

Ashley Wolfhunter took a couple steps back, using her radius to rattle the aerosol can in her right hand and moving locks of her neck length black hair out of her brown eyes and wiping the sweat off her red-brown skin. She smiled and chuckled mischievously as she admired her handiwork.

On an alley wall of a Seattle apartment complex, a crude interpretation of a stereotypical native american chieftain cooking a masked burglar like a rotisserie chicken stares down from his brick-layered canvas towards the petite artist that bore its creation, his face literally twisted in ugly disgust.

Ashley brushed off the dust from her dark blue skinny jeans and red flannel tied around her waist, throwing on her black leather jacket over her Led Zeppelin t-shirt. She quickly readjusted her maroon beanie so that it would keep her hair out of her eyes, threw her black Jansport backpack over her shoulder, and tossed the aerosol can into the dumpster before putting in her wireless earbuds, putting on her playlist as she proceeded to skate away from the graffiti using her quirk.

Hot ash and smoke coated the soles of Ashley's red skate shoes, a special brand made to withstand heat-based quirks, as she casually glided across the cement as if wearing hover shoes. Passing citizens side stepped away from the young adult, children staring amazed at the dark cloud around the girl's feet. Once she reached a steady velocity, she looked up at the orange sky, watching as those lucky bastards with flight based quirks commute above her before exhaling heavily.

She knew that she was going to be late, again. She knew that it was going to take at least an hour to get back to the reservation, and it was already 4:15. Supper was always served at 5:00 sharp every day, and with school getting out at 3:30, that doesn't leave Ashley a lot of time to decompress. Ashley knows from taking AP Psyche that everyone needs to be able to have time to decompress before returning home. She also knows that trying to explain that to her family is a lost cause. In her family, anytime tradition and logic go head to head, tradition always wins.

"'Be home before five'…" Ashley grumbled as she sped back up to a steady speed, then returned to a casual standing position with her hands in her jacket pockets. "For fuck's sake, I'm an adult now! I can come home whenever I want!" Along with her vocal rebellion, Ashley has been consistently arriving late over and over again as a subtle form of civil disobedience in an ineffective attempt to exercise her freedom and independence.

"Who even eats that early anyway?" Ashley grumbled under her breath, exhaling heavily again as the Foo Fighters relaxes her mood. Several minutes passed when Ashley spotted the AmPm that her childhood friend, Jack McFearson, works at after school. "Fuck it, I'm gonna be late anyway." Ashley turned towards the gas station, deactivating her powers as she approached the automatic door.

A jingle rings as Ashley stepped into the station, the black haired, average sized teen with dog ears and bushy tail looks up from his papers for a sec, before noticing the familiar face. "Hey Ashole." He greeted, returning his focus back to the papers.

"Hey Jackass." Ashley returned. "Have you restocked my Rockstar yet?" She asked him, despite walking away from him and towards the corner of the station.

"Yeah, you already know where it is!" Jack responded, not even looking. Ashley eventually made it to the refrigerated energy drinks, locating the Rockstar and yanking it from it's shelf. The refrigerator door closes as the jingle chimes again, causing curiosity to take over as Ashley glanced over to the hooded, threatening newcomer as he began marching over towards Nick.

"Excuse me sir, may you please remove your ho-"

"Shut the fuck up and listen to me if you wanna live!" The hooded figure then pulled a gun out of his pocket, a run of the mill M9, but a gun is a gun.

"Okay okay man!" Nick raised his hands up. "Let's be chill here dude!"

Ashley ducked down, and placed her drink down, slowly and silently crawling towards the front.

"Open the register and put all the money in the bag!" The hooded man shoved an open bad into Nick's face. The young man pressed a button on the machine, which opened the drawer. This was the panic button, which trips a silent alarm and signals the cops to the station. Now all Nick has to do is comply and give details to the police and have the heroes take care of it.

Unfortunately, Ashley didn't know of Nick's plan, and like hell is she going to have an ukshana threaten her friend like that. Slowly but surely, Ashley crawled along the floor towards the man, getting close to him as Nick started shoving bills and change into the man's bag. Once she got close enough, She stood up and started producing a glob of ash in her hand.

Nick was about to finish complying with the burglar when he noticed his friend prepare to chuck an amorphous ball at the back of the jerk's head. Knowing that words won't stop her, and that the burglar is most likely going to pull the trigger when the ash smacks his head, he waited until she chucked the projectile before ducking behind the counter.

The burglar's first reaction to the clerk ducking was to turn around, but before he could pull a trigger against a hero, his eyes processed the image of a cloud of embers, and before his brain could process what this could mean, the cloud smacked his face, and instead of processing the next course of action his brain began screaming as the nerves in his face began overloading it with signals of pain, and he dropped his gun as his hands reflexively grasped his face.

With adrenaline pumping full blast through her body, Ashley rushed foward and kicked the pistol away, bitch slapping the crook with an ember coated hand, causing another scream as he began receiving first degree burns along his big shaped face. In an attempt to fight back, the crook tried to lay her out with a haymaker hook, only to connect with air as Asley ducked under his fist and connected a swift yet powerful jab to the crook's crotch. As the jerk's grey matter was trying to sort itself between the burns throughout the facial nerves and the new pain along the reproductive nerves, it shot out to the body's motor functions to strategically retreat and give it time to strategize. The crook, despite double over, attempted to crawl out of the station,m only to be grabbed by his shoulders, and dragged out of the station before being thrown out by the girl who kicked his ass. Knowing that it lost this battle, the crook's brain has reasoned that pride should be swallowed and surrender be flagged as he gets out of the premise.

"Yeah, you better run ukshana!" Ashley shouted, "And never come back!" She spat on the ground before returning to the store. "You okay Jack?"

Jack groaned out a sigh as he pinched his nose. "Yeah, thanks Ash."

Ashley picked up her Rockstar and returned to the counter, tossing a five dollar bill at him. "Keep the change."

"Ash, you know that you have to stay here until the cops and heroes get here, right?" Jack told her, the girl tilting her head in confusion. "I pressed the panic button on the register Ash."

"Fuck." Ashley groaned. She wasn't just gonna get chewed out by her family, but by her entire tribe as well.

Name: Ashley Wolfhunter
Hometown: Seattle, Washington
Quirk: Embers
Ashley is able to create a cloud of embers and ash through the pores in her skin, allowing her to slide along the ground and produce short-range heat based projectiles and melee enhancements. This also grants her skin natural burn resistance.

Ever since the shining chinese newborn, superhuman powers had begun to spring up around the world. While initially met with resistance due to superstitious beliefs, scientists have confirmed that this was a cause of human evolution. The age of superhumans had begun.

As quirks became increasingly normal and accepted, the United States attempted to try and make sense of the changing times. Around the same time that Congress began discussing legislature for quirks, a new lobbyist group calling themselves the American Quirk Association (AQA) went to work advocating increased freedom of quirk use, forcing the States to start taking responsibility of quirk laws. The public use of quirks has been a controversial topic among many, sparking an unofficial political war on quirks. The last battle of this war was the court case American Quirk Association v. New York, where the AQA had accused the Mayor of New York, who had just signed legislation restricting the use of quirks in an attempt to reduce violence and vigilantism, of violating the citizen's First Amendment rights. This case made it all the way to the Supreme Court, who ended the battle, and the war, with a 4-3 decision in favor of the AQA, ruling that "While State Governments are allowed in full to sign legislation in regards to public quirk use, exercising one's quirks shall be considered equivalent to exercising one's individuality, and therefore the practice of exercising your quirk in public shall be protected under the First Amendment of the United States Constitution."

Since then, the use of quirks in public has become an American Norm, and surprisingly has benefitted the world as a whole. CO2 emissions decreased due to using your quirk becoming an acceptable commute option, sporting events became more exciting as athletes began using their quirks to their advantage, and with the rise of Heroes, and Heroes going from a childhood dream to a professional occupation, State-funded Hero Universities began popping up, their sole purpose to train and prepare students to become professional heroes. The colleges have made America's Heroic environment competitively equivalent with Japan's. With these two countries having the best Hero programs, the two countries formed a treaty named the "Pacific Hero Partnership Treaty," or PHPT, which allowed Japanese students to intern in American cities, and vice versa, improving both countries societies and lowering crime rate significantly.

While every state has at least one Hero University, The Hero University of New York, or HUNY, remains the most popular. The home of the Bumblebees features a large campus located on Ellis Island directly in front of the Statue of Liberty, allowing those who look at the front of the college to see Lady Liberty standing proudly behind it, a powerful message that makes this college a top pick among the other Hero Universities. Students and Faculty also receive complimentary transit services, including ferry services to and from the campus to each of the five boroughs of the City of New York. While the main campus is located in Ellis Island, the university features resources among all five boroughs, including University Housing in Queens. Consisting of 99 complexes, each co-ed house consists of 20 students, evenly divided among male and female students, with two RAs (Resident Associates), students who just received their Associates Degree in Heroism, and are responsible for the denizens of their house. Along with general education, these universities assist students obtain their Heroism Degrees and allow them to pursue a career in Heroism.

Do you have what it takes? Apply today at or call (212) 555-HUNY!

Whew, that was a lot of work. Anyway, hello everybody! If you don't recognize me, I am a newcomer and aspiring writer, inspired by some of the works on this site. I overheard of the concept behind SYOC, or Send Your Own Character, stories and being a fan of character creation and role-playing games, I thought I would look into it. And being a fan of My Hero Academia, I wanted to try out my interpretation of it.

As you can educatedly guess, this story will take place in America, in New York, on a college campus. The main cast will be the denizens of Building 7 in the "Bee Hive," HUNY's University Housing Campus, which accurately resembles an apartment complex with a food court and recreation cast will consist of 20 freshmen students, 10 dudes and 10 dudettes, and 2 Resident Associates, juniors who have already received their associate degrees and going for their bachelors.

Please note that this story is rated M for Mature for a reason. This story will be covering mature themes and topics, including but not limited to drugs, alcohol, mental health, racism, sexual scenes, and violence. Also know that character death may be a possibility, depending on where I take this story. If you are not comfortable with mature topics, or are uncomfortable with the idea of your character dying, then I do not recommend participating in this story. If these do not bother, then I welcome you to go to my profile and start on the application process. I hope to see great characters in this story.

See you during the Standby Phase!

-Time Thief Redoer