Walking through the vast empty building, Peter couldn't help but admire his costume. He didn't really have an idea for what his "look" should be, so he just picked an outfit based off a video game he liked. It felt weird wearing something so fantasy, like he was a real super hero from the comics. What he thought was especially weird was how they had him grow out his hair to make his costume; everything from bandages to his arms to the leather in his boots were made with his hair. He had to go see some hair specialists to gather enough hair to have his costume done. But now that it's finished it looked and felt great. And more importantly, his clothing and the gear he has with him would meld into his stone shape and not fall off his body. They even had special pockets for his cellphone and some small items.

But shortly after he arrived, Peter lined up in front of Mr. Hayes with the other students. This was it. No time to waste on exposition or self-reflection. It was go time. While the city popping out of the ground so suddenly did surprise him, he couldn't lose his cool now that there were lives on the line. Robot lives maybe, but this simulation was suppose to reflect how they would act in a real world disaster. If he tried to excuse any failure because it was all just training, he'd be a terrible hero. Fires, robberies, accidents, even villains, just about everything that can go wrong during a disaster will happen. As soon as Mr. Hayes raised his arm Peter knew it was almost go time. He pulled his goggles down onto his face and activated them.

Explosions. Crashes. Screams. Peter knew this was all a simulation but it all sounded so eerily real, or at least as real as he thought it could be. Maybe this was just hollywood special effects. But it put Peter in a panicked state of mind. He tried to get a grip though: a hero can't freeze when people are relying on them. As soon as the clock started Peter ran off towards the destruction. Peter thought the disasters might started somewhere randomly within the city, but as he was running through the streets he noticed some red light glowing from one of the buildings. Before he could investigate further it exploded and smoke billowed out. He could hear screams from inside. "Shiiiit that was fast!"

Peter ran towards the burning building. Even if this was just training it was very, very real; he barely reached the door when he felt a searing heat hit his skin and caused him to flinch. This was real heat and likely a real fire. If he just ran in there as he was right now he'll likely end up burning himself to a crisp. "Damn! I didn't think I'd need to do this so soon." Crouching low to the ground Peter closed his eyes. When they opened he was in boulder form; a perfectly spherical shape that would allow him to move around easily. He had a good thirty or so minutes before he'd ware himself out, but if he manages his stamina he could last longer. He just needed to be quick and don't hesitate.

He rolled into the burning building, the heat still hot but not so bad now that he was in rock form. He had a hard time hearing anything with all the burning around him but soon he would hear some coughing nearby. But the smoke was blocking his sight; the heat might not bother him but he still couldn't see a damn thing with all of this smoke. He thought about yelling out to the person but he worried that doing so might make them pass out; this heat and smoke was cutting oxygen quickly, and if they waste their breath shouting they would faint. Peter just had to make due and moved slowly towards the sound of coughing, trying his best to move quickly but carefully. It wasn't long before he found the first victim. It looked like an office worker trapped underneath a fallen filing cabinet.

Coming to a stop Peter changed back into his human form, immediately feeling the heat and growling in pain. It was intense. "Don't worry, I am here!" He said with a smile as he tried to move the filing cabinet. It was hot to the touch, which thankful didn't burn Peter's hand too badly thanks to his hand wraps but he could definitely feel the heat. He looked down at the man and noticed that he was alive, but his leg was at a sickening angle. He couldn't walk out of here on his own. It was then that Peter heard another scream on the floor above; just what he was worried about. But first thing's first he had to get this man out of here.

Picking him up into his arms, Peter ran out of the building low but quickly. He was drenched in sweat by the time he took the man out from the building. His breath wasn't stable and Peter did his best to preform some basic CPR he learned while at HJ. Just enough that the man could breath steadily, and then Peter went back into the building to save the others, transforming into a boulder and moving up to the second floor.

The second one was a lady who was near a window but trapped by burning debris. Smoke filtered out of the broken window so she had some time against smoke inhalation, but the heat would end her if Peter didn't act fast. While in boulder form he looked and found a small emergency fire extinguisher. No way it was going to put out all of the fire in the building but it could open a path for her. Coming out of boulder form again Peter grabbed the fire extinguisher, which did burn his hands this time but at this point he had so much adrenaline flowing through his body he didn't notice. He went over to the burning debris and unloaded the entire canister onto the flames, smothering it into a smokey pile of ash and rubble. Running through the smoke Peter went to the woman and offered her his scarf to cover her mouth. "Have no fear a hero is here! Please keep your head down and follow me out, we'll get you to safety in no time!"

Escorting the woman out was easy enough but Peter felt fatigued. The heat and energy spent moving around in boulder form ate up much more stamina than he thought, and it hasn't even been five minutes yet! But he knew he could keep going. Once he ensured that the two office workers would be okay, he gave himself a few seconds to catch his breath as he ran towards the next disaster area. No more explosions this time but he's pretty sure he just heard something big crash into a building.

---

As Mr. Hayes went through the task at hand, Eira was only half listening, instead admiring her costume, the white bodysuit that stretched over her legs but cut off at her shoulders, only to make way for her signature gloves of the same colour. Black boots, specially made so that the soles would not slip on her ice. Best of all, the coat that covered it all, deep blue running into a paler shade, fabric littered with stars and snowflakes. Not only was it gorgeous, but also contributed to her keeping herself at an acceptable temperature. Maybe not by too much, but in a fight, a few minutes are all one needs to turn the tides.

The timer began, and Eira did not hesitate. She shot off, working through her thoughts just as fast. Twenty minutes didn't seem like long, but in a situation where everything has to be done well and twice as fast, it would definitely drag on. With a quirk like hers, time was everything. If she spent too long too cold, she'd be screwed. If she held back too much, she'd be screwed. For Eira, it was about balance. She knew her limits better than anyone else, and as long as she didn't go over them, this would be a piece of cake. But that was enough, as she had encountered her first incident, a robbery of a small shop.

The robber waved around a gun while the impromptu shopkeeper cowered behind the till. The designs of the dummies were a little jarring. It didn't faze her though, and she approached the robber, activating her quirk. A small radius that she would not harm the shopkeeper, and so the enemy would not realise she was there until it was too late. It whirled around to lock eyes with Eira, and she punched it. Twice, as a matter of fact, her fists empowered by the cold, and she noted the frost rapidly forming from her quirk. There were two outcomes: it was overwhelmed by the frost or it met its end through her relentless attacks. Eira would always come out on top – she would never have it any other way.

Whichever it was, it had to come quick. She bolstered her quirk, feeling the chill strengthen around her already frigid self, and took great pleasure in her opponent's reaction. It fumbled with his gun, but the metal burnt him from the cold and it dropped it in his panic. A couple well-placed hits and he dropped, unconscious. She rushed off, not giving the shopkeeper time to say anything. She had things to do.

Though she had deactivated her quirk, Eira wasn't getting any warmer. The chill blossomed over her body, but she gritted her teeth and kept moving. It wasn't particularly bad, but she was acutely aware of what would happen if she strained herself too much. She weighed up the situation (good: finished fight quickly, bad: cold), gazing up at the clock.

Seventeen minutes and forty nine seconds.

Barely audible over the chaos, Eira heard a scream from above her. She turned slightly, only to see a building, a blazing column of fire. “New objective,” she muttered, only feeling the empty warmth for a second as she activated her quirk and stepped inside. Her cold aura washed over the interior, fighting the hot beat of the flames licking at the walls, but no one seemed to be there. The first floor was empty too, as was the second.

“Where the fuck are you?” Eira called out, words harsh on her tongue. Immediately after, she hacked and coughed, having inhaled a dose of smoke. She'd forgotten about that. Though the heat was lost on her, everything else was not. She had to get a move on.

A voice shrieked back, strained, from the floor below. She cursed herself for missing it, and she raced downwards. She still couldn't see anyone, vision obscured by the copious amounts of smoke flooding her vision.
“Keep shouting! Don't stop until I get you out the damn building!” Eira screamed again. The reply was faint, a pitiful wail, but at least it was close. She moved towards it, slowly yet urgently, only stopping when her hands felt soft skin. An arm, perhaps? Yes, she felt a hand, but it was so small. Of course they'd put kids in this - or at least, they functioned the same way.

She hissed to herself, crouching down to pull the robot child out. It sniffled, occasionally coughing, but complied.
”Come on. Let's go, kid,” she grunted, tugging gently on its arm.
“Hurts,” it mumbled in reply, coughing lightly. “Legs.”
”Of course it does. Alright, hold on tight,” she sighed, picking it up. She, too, was coughing, but she made the effort to hold it breath when the smoke passed over them. He wasn't very heavy, but at this point it was getting difficult to breathe or see. Thank god she could combat the heat, otherwise she might've dropped dead right there. Eira ran through the flames, feeling small bits of debris bounce off her back, and she cradled the robot closer, shielding it.

When she finally emerged from the building, she had an unharmed child and a newfound respect for firefighters. She set it down, and it instantly detached himself from her.
“You're cold,” it mumbled, coughing violently, but after that it seemed fine. “'m cold.”
“Shut up. Where are your parents,” Eira replied, scowling down at it. This simulation was a little too realistic for her liking. It pointed over at a crashed car a few meters down the road. Another robot, still moving, seemed to be struggling to get out.

”You have to be kidding me,” she groaned, but her legs betrayed her as she approached the trapped dummy. After all, the clock was still ticking, and there was still disaster to avert. Maybe she'd even get a show of her classmates' quirks while she was at it. Behind her, the now empty building crashed down. It seemed that she had been just in time.

“Well, that’s a hero school for you,” Abigail said to herself as she heard the instructions. “Though, I guess it does have its perks, right?” she added, looking over her new costume. Nice and cool, and… a little bit on the sexy side, after all, looking good on a photo wasn’t a bad idea right?

“I was going to ask whether or not we should do this in groups or on our own, but I guess this is enough of an answer already,” Abigail said, to their teacher just as some of the others decided to jump right into action without spending even a single moment to think.

“In that case, I’ll be going as well. If anyone wants to catch up I’ll be right over… there,” she said to the other classmates who remained behind, pointing to a less heated up area of their training grounds.

“See ya! And… watch your step, ok?” Abigail chuckled as she began to walk away, noticing how the area around them was full of some potentially slippery gravel.

---

The wait had been excruciating but at long last, Danielle was ready. USJ had access to some of the finest designers of support equipment and they earned cent of subsidized federal income when it came to bringing her costume to fruitition. A part of her expected it to be rejected for being too revealing like she knew some countries in the east would, but in the good old U.S. of A. there were few such concerns.

Both hands grasped her peaked cap and pulled it down snug atop her head, careful not to muss up her straightened hair and ruin the image. Pristine but foreboding. A bright beacon of red to draw the eye of damsel and villain alike.

"Look out world!" Danielle cheered with a flourish skywards of her deceptively hefty crop and a step forward that rang with the harsh clack of a heel driven sharply to the floor. Alas, the applause of the masses would only exist in her head as the bathroom stall she was afforded for changing was lacking in that area.

Washing up and joining her similarly suited classmates, Mr. Hayes had set forth a challenge of their skill in heroism with the rising of a titanic cityscape made all the grander for its indoor nature. She could feel the artifical wind buffet her liberally exposed skin and felt a shiver of anticipation to be let off the metaphorical leash and strike out into the training ground. The signal to began went off and, to her surprise, a few darted ahead like wild horses through a broken enclosure fence. An admirable enthusiasm that stoked a competitive flame in her breast.

"This is what I've been training for. There's no way I'm passing up on this stage!" Dan- No, Show-Stopper, cried out and took off into the city streets behind them, plunging forward where others dove into buildings and nooks least they all waste time stealing each others heroic spotlight.

This put her on course with an eight car pile up at an intersection, the robots inside the cars looking fittingly like crash test dummies given a more human skin tone and accesories, but still left limp and in need of rescue from the snarl of twisted metal and shattered glass. Her eyes flickered to one side of the intersection completely blocked off by an over turned tanker truck, and the oh so convenient flames just happened to be near said tanker.

"If nothing else, USJ knows how to build up a moment. Nevertheless, I'm not leaving anyone to meet the fire today!" Show Stopper said, running headlong into the thick of things to start bringing the civilians to safety.

Ironic, wasn't it? The entire idea behind a group of villains hiding inside of a prison was an interesting dramatic flourish. Still though, it was a pretty big risk. A random invitation to join some group of villains. Association? Guild? Union? Really, Quinn didn't get too many details about it. What she did get - the most important part - was their goal. The goal of this group aligned perfectly with her own. If they were to be trusted, then her dreams could be realized. Trusting villains, though? Perish the thought. And if it was a sting? Well, that would really be ironic.

Dressed in what she called a costume - reinforced undershirt, gore tex jacket with a fur collar, simple pants and boots, a wig, and her notorious demon mask - she entered the room. Really, it was easier on all sides if she showed up in her costume. After all, who would trust a bunch of people she would randomly meet? She was pretty noided, after all. Lived her life as low profile as possible. With her tail outstretched and swollen, she took a seat opposite of the woman in the gas mask. Quinn's tail stretched over her back, resting on her shoulder as she waited for the rest of the members to arrive. She could have made small talk with the hooded woman. Emphasis on could. She seemed to be like-minded, after all. No normal person would have been here.

---

The steady fire engulfing Sana's hand lit her way marginally better than the dinky lights lining the deteriorating concrete floors had been alone. The squelching noises from her wet boots had begun to annoy her, especially in such quietness, so she heated up her feet and legs for several seconds to quickly evaporate the remaining water left on them and soaked into her orange coverall's pants. She had had to get hold of a bloody kayak and needed to wade through the water when she had finally reached the island to be able to respond to this... invitation? To join a team. Of villains.

Somehow, the thought of such a thing had never crossed her mind before. Heroes working together made sense--they all bent over backward to act moral and good and personable. Whether they generally succeeded or not was very much up for debate, as far as Sana was concerned, but even the most wretched of 'heroes' could at least pretend to play nice with each other.

Villains, though... a bit of a different crowd. A criminal expecting another criminal to have their back was a thought Sana would've found amusing, if she hadn't been humouring it since she received the message that had led her to this place.

Seriously. Alcatraz. That itself almost sounded like a joke.

The girl sighed to herself. A villain who was willing to reach out for help and organize a coordinated group probably had a decent chance of being more respectable than the common mugger she had burnt many a time. This darker side of hers had lived in total isolation for years, and that had been fine. But after the prospect of a team had come up... Sana couldn't help but feel a bit of hope that this theoretical group would pan out. It was a strange feeling.

The light humming of fans brought the girl back into the moment, coming from a nearby door that of the cables lining the hall seemed to converge into. As she killed the fire on around her hand, she peered into the room through the blacked-out visor of her oxygen mask.

The humming that had tipped Sana off came from generators and computers. Sana made note of two fairly quiet and serious looking women, sitting at opposite ends of the table that centered the room. She glanced between the two, trying to decide which one was the one who had sent out the invitation, or if they had both done so together. The purple-haired one seemed more 'at home.' The thought caused Sana to look around again, frowning slightly when she saw the broken pot and dirt on the ground.

"... Interesting place. Kind of a pain to get to, but I get that's the idea," she said.

Ignoring the empty seats, Sana walked up to the table to look at the papers strewn about it. At first, she was confused by them, wondering who the people depicted were, but it clicked when her eyes fell upon a few particular pages that were stapled together, her own unmasked face depicted on the top left of the first sheet.

Sana gave a dry grin. "I figured," she mused, before reaching up to loosen and remove her mask. "Not like my identity is particularly easy to hide anyway." She slipped her backpack off her shoulder and placed it on the table, unzipping it to put her mask away while also spending an extra second rummaging around for a granola bar that she promptly tore open and began to munch on. She picked up what was evidently the file containing all the information her inviter had about her to scan through it further.

Some of the hopeful trust Sana had had for the once faceless person who had called her here was gone. As she tossed the last bit of her snack into her mouth, she burnt the wrapping left in her hand to ash in a short puff of fire. Her gaze shifted from the papers to the woman with her legs up on the table.

"I hope you've got plans to convince me that you aren't the treacherous type--especially after seeing this," she said, tone a little colder than before as she dropped the papers back onto the table.

Blair Price - Unlimited

Vibrant red. No better colour for a hero to wear. Bright like a fire truck, an emergency vehicle. The lightweight full body armour lacked bulk, while the white pants and coat added that bit of heroic flair. Running her hand over the smooth helmet, Blair walked towards the training ground, every hero dashing off to perform mighty acts of heroism. Blair knelt and smacked the bottoms of her shoes, taking care to use as little force as needed before she took a speed skater’s pose. Shooting off, her feet moved as if she was skating on ice and she quickly built momentum.

Streaking into the city, Blair slid into an alleyway and saw a ‘mugger’ along with ‘small child’ and ‘mother’ styled mannequin robot… things. Crouching as she flew towards the mugger, Blair stuck out her arm before standing as she clotheslined the mugger. Momentum and force causing the mugger to be carried away on an armoured arm, while the machine was rendered frictionless due to the impact. Not stopping, Blair watched over her shoulder as the robot flailed on the ground like a turtle on its back while skidding off into the street, pinwheeling in a rather comical fashion.

“Okay, so that’s two civilians rescued, and one mugger incapacitated.” Putting a hand to the ground the armoured fingers sparked slightly as she made a tight turn and moved deeper into the city, reasoning that most of the students would just be entering from the one side and taking on all incidents as they found them. That still left an entire mock city’s worth of disasters and crimes occurring.

“Feels like letting the rest of the city go to hell in a hand-basket would be a fail conditi-” as she raced past a she saw what looked like a school bus planted in the side of a building. Screeching to a halt, Blair used the tips of her shoes to run back and get a proper look.

“What the…” the bus, complete with robotic school children crying in their computerized voices, looked as if a giant hand had picked the bus up and stabbed it into the side of what looked like a bakery. The glass façade was oddly intact, the bus having gone through the brick wall instead

“Okay, okay… first, don’t move the bus. It might be the only thing keeping the building up right now. Letting the building crush all the school kids and maybe bakers sounds bad.” Going to the front door of the store, Blair tenderly opened it and waited for the creaking to stop before slowly picking up ‘baker’ robots and putting them on the pavement. All the while the thought ‘what do I do about the bus?’ swirled in her head over and over.

Dean cast his mind back to earlier that day.

It would be perfectly accurate to say that the bank was in utter chaos. A cramped lobby filled with a swarm of starlings, which pecked and scratched at both the staff and the unfortunate customers who just happened to be using the bank at that very moment. That was, of course, a distraction, as the real crime was happening at the desk, where young bank teller had a raven on her shoulder, the knife on its talons pressed nervously close to her throat. Dean slid a piece of paper across the desk to her, after he checked the details through the eyepiece of his mask. He politely requested a full withdrawal, and without much option, the teller gathered up some staff and returned with the money that Dean sought.

This was a rather personal crime - he had spent a few weeks tracking down the bank that contained a great deal of his parent's money. They had moved overseas, but left some money in San Francisco in their haste. Money that was rightfully his. Once the crime was done, the raven fluttered back onto his shoulder, and he bid the staff good day, before leaving. The starling swarm would vacate themselves from the bank soon enough too. Certainly a successful crime, and perhaps foreboding considering the invite in his manor that he would end up returning to.

The crowded bank was certainly a far cry away from where Dean was now, walking through the dimly let empty halls.

The invitation had come as a shock. He didn't think villains were great enough in number in San Francisco for their to be any kind of league - but it was certainly a welcome surprise. More people that shared his beliefs? You could absolutely count Dean in for that. But he was wary - this sort of thing could easily be a trap - which was why he didn't come alone, a raven sitting atop his shoulder as a companion. Just in case things went south. And he could feel that Alcatraz was crawling with birds anyway, mainly seagulls. So he certainly had a good platform to fight from if this was something more sinister.

He was fully kitted out in his villain outfit for this - top hat included. One has to make a good impression, he reasoned, certainly if he was amongst his own kind. Alcatraz was definitely an interesting choice for this meeting of the bad guys, and as he turned a corner he looked at the wires converging up ahead, as he noticed they went into a door which was shadowed with darkness. Dean looked up at his raven, deciding safe was better than sorry. The bird taking on his eyes and ears, it flew into the dark room, landing on the table, and looked around.

Dean could spot three people, all women. Definitely no police, and they definitely did not look like heroes. It seemed legitimate enough, he guessed. The raven flew back out and Dean regained control of his senses, before walking inside. His eyes were immediately drawn to the stack of papers on the table, and his face on one near the top. That came along with a picture of him in his villain outfit, and of his manor. He picked up the paper and sighed, before reaching back and taking off his mask. He set it down on the table, pulling out a chair, his somewhat thin yet also somewhat handsome face now on show.

He looked around again for a moment before speaking.

"Well, I'm certainly glad to see this appears to be legitimate. Can we expect anymore?"

---

---

"Prrrrrrr-zzzzzzz-prrrrrrr-zzzzzzz-prrrrrrr..."

Purry snoring rumbled through the schoolyard air. Under a tree, the source of the sound lay curled, a petite brunette. Leaves drifted down and settled on her, which she batted away in her sleep. As she brushed a hand against the side of her face, her eyes blinked open. She let out a sleepy murmur, then sat bolt upright.

"Aw, crap! The combat practice!"

After a quick check of the time on her phone, she gave a sigh of relief. She stretched, yawned and stood, ambling towards the building. After all those utterly mind-numbing academic classes, it wouldn't do to be late now that something different was happening. And a true hero was never late.

Once she'd changed, Freya joined up with the others in the vast expanse of empty space, squirming a little as she glanced down at her skin-hugging bodysuit. A little daring for her liking, but oh well, at least the light and stretchy fabric allowed her to move without restriction. She pulled at her hood, making sure to hide the tufts of hair sticking up on one side from her nap, hoping she wouldn't get a lecture about image.

After all, it was skill that would make people here shine today. This was it, finally a chance to put what they'd learned to good use. Would lessons like this live up to descriptions she'd heard? How starry-eyed she'd been as she'd imagined following her sister on the path to success... How naive she'd been. She sighed, watching as buildings rose before the group. This had better be about what it took to be a hero, not about fame and glamour.

Like a cat awaiting the right moment to pounce, Freya crouched, muscles tensing, eyes alert. Mr Hayes raised his arm. Then, BOOM. As a roar of explosions, accompanied by smashing cars and disturbingly realistic screams, signalled the lesson's start, Freya was off into the chaos.

So much for hoping it wouldn't be too gruelling, Freya thought as she scaled a tree and climbed onto a wall for a better view, her motion remarkably quick for someone who slept so much. Of course, she'd figured hero work wouldn't be as easy as a certain someone made it seem.

Movement in an alleyway caught her attention. She leapt down, careful not to make any noise while scurrying towards the scene of the crisis. One robot slammed another into a wall, LED light eyes flaring as it held a knife to the dummy's throat.

Freya sprang, landing a flying kick on the mechanical villain's shoulder. It dropped the knife and spun round, swinging a fist, which the hero-in-training dodged just in time. Noting its lowered guard and off-balance position, Freya jumped and slammed her boot against its side. Metal crashed against concrete. Before the robot could right itself, the feline girl slipped behind it, plucking the specially made white band from her belt and slapping it against the steel wrists. It constricted like pulled and released elastic to bind the robot's arms.

"Whew..." Freya scampered from the alleyway, leaving the restrained villain struggling to no avail. "One down, a gazillion more to go."

---

A dark, guttural rumble answered two questions at once; Sana and Dean’s. Or as they were known by their mantle of villainy, Animus and Corvus respectively. The rumble started off faint in the distance, but it soon became obvious the noise was approaching closer and closer. Overtime, it was easy to distinguish it as the sound of a hefty chainsaw; indeed, the next to arrive was a masked girl wielding the deadly weapon. Relatively small-time for her career, the locals would have known her as Jack the Ripper.

Brushing past the room’s entrance, she powered down her chainsaw and walked without saying a word. The mask was probably responsible for such, but her animalistic features might have had something to do with it too. The only emotion in her face was a twinkle of irritation in her eyes as she noticed their leader, Noxious, also sported a mask of her own. Copy-cat. Regardless, she hoisted the chainsaw to rest on her shoulder and made way to stand behind the woman who gathered everyone here.

She had overheard the conversation-or lack thereof-from Sana. Naturally, it was anyone’s best judgement to be wary on the side of caution, especially when dealing with other villains. But these were desperate times for the ones steeped in darkness and bickering among themselves would get them nowhere. That was why Jack the Ripper stared directly at the other girl with unblinking eyes.



With a steady hand she revved up her chainsaw without breaking eye contact; not enough to cause a ruckus but just enough to set her weapon on a low purr. If Sana had a problem with identity, then there were easy ways to erase it. On the contrast, the woman with the scorpion’s tail remained collected so far and, much like their leader, hadn’t spoken a word. The Ripper flicked her eyes just once at her, choosing already that out of the people here, Anarchy Red was the one she liked the most.

---

Ryan had surfaced in one of the submerged levels of the prison, dripping wet and wearing nothing but a pair of black trunks and a metal mask. Behind him, he'd been dragging a large plastic garbage bag. He'd elected to swim there, towing his things behind him, triple-wrapped in black trash bags, and immediately started to familiarize himself with the seemingly abandoned facility. He closed his eyes, and focused on the signals being picked by his ampullae of Lorenzini, that tiny network of electricity-sensitive nodes throughout his body. He was pleased to see that the electricity in the building was online, and from that, he could sense the general layout of the prison.

He'd stopped to find the showers, clean himself up, dry off and change, so he was the last to stroll in, stepping over the remains of the potted plant. Like the others, the redhead was rocking the edgelord lock: He had on a black, high-collared jacket, worn closed. A black bandana covered his face, with a shark-jaw print. And on his back was his massive pair of clippers. Paying no mind to Jack's display with the chainsaw and unworried by Sana's pyromania, he casually pulled up a seat, at the same time grabbing his file.

"At least I know you're not gonna be scared away by the murders." He said, his voice distorted by the metal mask he wore under the bandana. Though they couldn't see his face, his dark eyes were squinting slightly in a smile. "Everyone else here has a rap sheet, right?" He asked the others in the room, leafing through the file like one would go through a family photo album.

“Tsc! I guess it can’t be helped. They are as lost as anyone can be. You’d expect people that are almost old enough to drive to have some maturity, but… kids will be kids, I guess,” Abigail said to herself as she looked over her classmates from a perch at the edge of a nearby building. She was drinking from a bottle of sparkling water, with the “villain” robots bound in the floor beside her.

How she got them? And where did she get her drink and the pair of binoculars she was using from? Well, those are good questions that may or not be answered sometime. After all, a girl gotta have her secrets, right?

The important thing was that she was observing the others from a safe haven, while toying with the head of one of the robots, fiddling with it under her one of her feet idly. Well, that and… “Oh, look! If it’s not a water tank with its supports damaged. I wonder if they need a way to cool things down over there,” Abigail said to herself as she noticed as water tank that had its supports damaged after the many collisions and explosions close to her classmates’ location was about to crash down, flooding the streets with so many gallons of cold water.

At least it should put off some of those pesky fires, right?

---

---

Oh boy, week three of hero school.

For a while, it was just booked and studying and that wasn't anything really challenging for Phoebe (Or Tropica, her hero name). Just studying stuff like past heroes slash villains, tests about the proper way to respond to situations, and so on and so on. It was, primarily, research slash common sense, but Phoebe was waiting for the day she'd get some actual training. Because she was wondering how in the hell she was going to fight villains with healing power. And like hell she was going to be like Recovery Girl in Japan, being a two-bit healer for a bunch of stupid kids. Though Phoebe pondered how being an exchange student in U. A would be like...

Oh, how her mind wanders sometimes.

Phoebe walked up wearing her witch costume that she had fashioned for herself. All green, of course, but all she was missing was the wand. Coming up with the costume was such a pain in the ass because unlike a lot of heroes coming up with a costume wasn't easy as having a fire quirk. She didn't want to be a generic hero, but she also couldn't come up with a costume that correlates with her. Everyone else had their own costumes on and Phoebe thought that some of them were kinda cute. She had to smirk.

So far Phoebe has her fair share of opinions of Class A, or whatever. It came with going to school with these people for a few months - though she had the feeling that not too many people here had a high opinion of her. It was quite unfortunate since she would like to get to know the people. Though Mr. Hayes got everyone's attention... and Phoebe immediately pipped up. Mr. Hayes was the kind of person she definitely couldn't ignore when he began to spoke.

"Welcome to your first U.S.J Hero Combat Practice..."

The girl raised an eyebrow, she anticipated this... but she was curious how she was going to actually participate in combat training, but she remembered something; there's more to a hero than their quirk or something. Martial arts, and maybe even quick wits. She could always help evacuate the civilians, however, she knew that her specialty was healing and... she wasn't going to shove her fruit into the mouths of robots.

That's just stupid.

Soon the city erupted out of the ground and Phoebe was thrown off for a moment. Soon Mr. Hayes explained that their mission is to solve various crimes and other situations in the city. Someone trapped underneath a building, someone robbing a bank... and so on. Though, Phoebe had the feeling that this was less of a combat exercise and more of seeing how they are in action. So that meant that Phoebe had to show them that she was the best of the best.

"Alright guys," Phoebe started off just as the timer was about to hit zero. "How about we work together and tackle all of this one thing at a-"

The timer hit zero and everyone immediately ran off and started their hero thing and Phoebe couldn't help but pout. So much for teamwork. Phoebe thought to herself as she rolled her eyes. Of course, Phoebe had to simply find where she was needed the most and be there.

Because she had a feeling lone wolfing it wouldn't cut it in their eyes.

---

Samuel had barely comprehended what was going on when the situation was explained before the explosions broke out and everyone seemed to be running off on their own. Oh no! What am I going to do? he thought to himself, panicking a bit. Everyone is running off already, and I can't use my Quirk with bystanders nearby if I go berserk! I don't know what to do... He took a step backwards, the loose gravel slipping away underneath his feet, making him fall back first onto the ground. Great, my first practical lesson and I immediately mess up. What would Sana think of me right now...

Then, the memory of his sister made him warm up a bit, both emotionally and physically. It was only a few degrees like he had a small fever, but it was his emotional change that was more drastic. That's right. She would just stand up again and take it head on! With that courageous thought in his head, he got back on his feet again. He walked onto the grounds and saw one of his fellow students on top of a building. Before he could wonder how she got there or what she was doing, he saw the water tank next to her about to fall. Even worse, the water tank would fall on top of a crashed car where Eira was busy helping out some 'civilians'. Jeez, talking about bad luck... Then he realised he could use this to his advantage. He looked around until he saw the person people he needed.

Remembering everyone's Quirk, he knew the person who could help him was the one with the pulling Quirk.
"Danielle!" He shouted at her. "That water tank is about to fall on top of the car! I need you to pull it away from them! The momentum of the fall should make it easier, so try to time it!" When he was done, he hurried towards the car to help Eira. "We need to get these civilians out of here quickly. The water tank up above is about to give in. If Danielle can help us out, we should be safe, but I rather not take any chances." He said.

He walked to the back of the car, seeing that the dummy civilian was in the front. "Can you hold your hands on the rear window for about 5 seconds? I need it to cool down." He asked of her. He waited for her to do as he said, then hit the window with his padded elbow. The supercooling of the glass made it easier to break. He then crawled into the back of the car, being careful he wouldn't cut himself on the shards. He looked at the dummy. "Don't worry, I'm gonna get you out of here." He said with a warm smile.

He grabbed the seatbelt with both hands. "This can get hot for a bit..." He heated himself up to around 500 K (about 230 C), which dried out the leather in the belt and made it easy for him to break it apart. He immediately cooled himself down to prevent him from lashing out for any reason and lifted up the dummy, carrying it out of the car, getting it to the child dummy. "Don't worry, everything is okay now." He said, his warm smile radiating off him again. He then looked back at Eira and Danielle to see how they were doing.

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@Aviaire @NightmareInd @Lonewolf685

Freya whirled round at the juddering crash of a collapsing building. With a sigh, she rushed over. This simulation wasn't even letting anyone catch their breath, though she supposed that was the point.

She arrived to see Samuel running to the aid of a soot-covered Eira, a short distance from a heap of burning debris, and helping out with her workload. "Eira! You ok? Ugh, do they really have to push us this hard?" she grumbled. Even more worrying was the nearby water tank, its supports straining as it began to creak loose. Freya grimaced, glancing from the impending disaster to Danielle. "Let's hope we don't wind up in the deep end literally as well as figuratively!"

No time to lose. Even if Danielle was able to help, the civilians needed evacuating as quickly as possible. As Eira and Samuel pulled a civilian from one car, Freya headed to the other collided vehicle. Thankfully, the door wasn't stuck, but the seatbelts were. Extending her claws, she raked them across the belts. Not an easy or elegant task, but after a few tries, the tattered material gave way. Freya eased two dummies from the car, metallic crunching from behind drawing her attention back to the water tank.

"Eira, if that tank falls, think you can freeze the water in time?" she called, with a twinge of guilt at the other girl's exhausted state. This all seemed rather over the top, even without factoring in the most recent stroke of bad luck. Surely pro heroes didn't have to deal with all hell breaking loose at once.

When Peter arrived to the scene, he saw a bus rammed into the side of a bakery like it somehow fell off a bridge or something. How it got there didn't matter as much as the fact there was the sound of crying children within. Classic scenario. As He got closer he noticed another student moving the robot bakers inside. "Great, then I got some help." He entered the bakery just as she left, stopping to tell her his plan quickly. "I'm going to hold that bus in place while you get the children and anyone wounded out of here quickly. Once they're out I'll go take them somewhere safe!" Peter wished he could discuss this plan further but time was of the essence. he didn't know how much time was left but even a minute spent debating or arguing was a minute more people would die, and possibly points deducted.

The creaking in the building was not a good sign. Usually it'd take more than a collision to collapse a building but it's not like Peter knew if this place was built up to standard or if it was intentionally rigged so that anything that could go wrong, will go wrong. But heroes don't have time to go study up on building code or figure out the mathematics of how likely it is for this place to fall. He went up to the bus and looked to make sure it wasn't tipping out of the building. Opening the doors he could see that the buss driver slumped over the wheel. Because he was a robot Peter wasn't sure if he was dead or alive, but he needed to be saved regardless. He dragged the body out for the other girl to grab while Peter tried to calm the children. "Don't be afraid kids, everything will be alright! Please follow the nice lady out of this building while I do my thing!"

Sitting in the driver's seat Peter shifted into his stone shape so that his massive weight would tilt the bus forward so it won't fall backwards and out of the building. He'll stay like this until everyone was evacuated, with him leaving last. If worse comes to worse and the building does somehow collapse on them, he could survive if he stays in stone shape. Hopefully.

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Sofia could be seen fiddling with and adjusting the fit of her admittedly snug costume on route to the training facility. Not that she didn't on some level fret over how it looked and felt to a reasonable extent, but in the grand scheme of things any gripes she had were fleeting and really couldn't take her mind off of all the butterflies in her stomach for very long. The sight of the immense installation in all its glory wouldn't at all help in that regard as it turned out, and she just about shrunk in the wake of its looming scale as they all entered.

While at first taken aback by the rising training grounds in the form of a replicated metropolis, her gaze didn't stray too far from the suitably massive ceiling that enclosed it all. Her wings trembling restlessly under the thought of a personal flight of fancy of hers; such milestones seemed so far away from where she stood, but after today she'll be one step closer... with any luck.

Speaking of which, after the intense rush of the trial's start had subsided a little, she would then be frozen in subtle dismay as Abigail offered to spearhead some kind of collaborative effort at a relatively quiet place to the side. Even if she wasn't told so directly, Sofia's mind would hearken back to the past two weeks worth of broken writing utensils (two of which were pens), lunchroom accidents, flying pigeons with suspiciously impeccable aim, and one minor wardrobe malfunction that she'll nevertheless take to the grave.

The offer needn't have been genuine for Sofia to feel guilty in disregarding it, and quietly she headed out on her own to a nearby apartment building roof, fluttering first to the top of a semi, then to a higher tree branch, then to a fire escape, all with no trifling amount of effort before perching herself on greater and greater vantage points overlooking the city. She needed to seek out conflicts of her own to handle, to stand out from the others, lest she fail to prove she deserves to be here.

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(14 Minutes Remain)
Breaking up a few looters seemed easy enough when she started. But when the getaway driver started to flee the scene in the loaded pickup truck with another goon on the back, Sofia immediately felt as though she'd lost control of the situation. In the coming moments, hindsight would hit her hard as she frantically struggled to stay upright against the relentless pull of her right arm's silk thrower, the piercing head of which had been shot through the car's roof, the spike anchoring her in for their desperate escape.

Almost immediately, her wings battled against the torrent of rushing air until she was being drawn along like a very unsteady kite. Trees, telephone polls, lamp posts: all this an more she forced herself to maneuver around, a hastily preformed horizontal run along the second story of an office complex before the thug at the back attempted the proactive approach towards getting her off their tail for good.

The line was already quickly drawing Sofia close, but the synthetic criminal's move to rip away the cord at its head just about made time screech to a halt, her heart in her throat as with an arcing reach of her other arm, she let the second silk thrower loose. This time, the lash ripped through the air with a terrible crack and coiled around the perp's calf. Then with an equally dire motion, her arm reeled back, causing the dummy to collapse down legs first into the tail gate, which gave way under the blunt force and opened for the hapless criminal facsimile to violently tumble off the speeding truck, followed almost immediately by the majority of the simulated electronic goods they stole.

I have been far too sloppy thus far. But if I can just put an end to this getaway, then I should be fine. She anxiously supposed while falling onto the roof, her arms grasping at the edges for stability. Course, no sooner had she done so than had the vehicle started swerving wildly to force her off, her antennae, hair and fluffy collar rustling as she lowered her head over the slanted windshield. Easier said than done! She was more than a little annoyed when the driver activated the wipers as they almost slapped her, but she was more alarmed over how erratic it was driving and she certainly couldn't withstand the g-forces for much longer.

If only I were stronger, perhaps I could break and force my way in, but as it stands I will not make it in time...! Sofia bewailed to herself, thoughts racing until she noticed a jagged crack in the windshield that was evidently from when the spike of her silk thrower penetrated through the roof and looked to almost do the same to the front pane. Shaken, she swallowed a lump in her throat, glancing at her billowing right arm. Unless...


The construction block proper is one of copious steel beams, purposefully unfinished foundations and scaffolding overlooking gravel mounds and heavy machinery. It was also the backdrop of a tense hostage situation, with several armed thugs guarding four kneeling and cowering civilians divided among the three floors of an underdeveloped, open framework building (two at ground level and one for each subsequent level). It was fairly obvious how this ordeal was supposed to be approached, but that made it all the more unexpected when the getaway truck plowed through the surrounding fence and into an unsuspecting thug prior to slamming straight into a sizable heap of gravel. Sofia, who was still on the roof at the time, was sent flying under a wave of dirt and smoke, managing to flap her wings just barely enough to lessen her rolling fall. She felt thoroughly sick by the time she got up, the situation dawning on her in seconds.

Things have definitely not gone according to plan. While she reckoned she could draw a few of the patrolling guards away, getting to the hostages located in the framework building near the center of the construction site would be even more difficult to manage. What's more, Sofia sported a few more cuts and bruises for this one, and needless to say her suit was a lot less pristine than when she started.

Blair Price - Unlimited

Blair saw the guy who could turn into a rock go into the bakery after hastily explaining his plan. Dragging the very unhelpful mock bakers she moved them to the alley on the stable enough side of the building by a dumpster. Going back to the bakery and going through the door, Blair started up the stairs. Her face covered by her helmet her voice was muffled to the point her muttering was near inaudible.

“Take them somewhere safe? There was no designated safe zone and three steps in any direction looks like a bomb went off. Oh yeah, I’ll just find the least exploded part of the city and just pray some dynamic disaster doesn’t occur there. At least if they’re nearby I can react.” Near the open door with boulder boy inside, Blair carefully moved to the back of the bus before picking up two mannequins and carrying them under her arms

“Okay, okay. So, first I’m getting them off the bus, no sense taking precious time going up and down stairs. I’m going to be placing the chickadees in a doorway where the building is structurally sound before coming back for more.” Blair making a trip with the first pair of child sized crash test dummies before explaining the plan more as she gathered more kids.

“Once they’re all out we check that there’s no one below the bus, if there is no one, I render the part it’s caught on frictionless, letting the bus fall out, so we aren’t going through a building with the fear of a bus landing on our heads.” Her second trip with all the haste of someone trying to save kids from a teetering bus and having no idea if the building could support the weight of a bus for any length of time. Especially with a heavy rock man in it.

“Okay, so I know we’re supposed to take care of the buildings and stuff, but people are more important than things. Got it? Good. Be right back.” And with the last batch of crash test dummies out of the bus, Blair stuck her head out the window and saw there were no dummies, civilian or otherwise, with the potential of being squished.

“Alright, coast is clear, come on out rocketeer.” Picking up a hammer from an upturned toolbox, Blair gripped the brick façade of the building and made to swing it as soon as Peter left the bus, ready to let it slide out relatively harmlessly.

@Zaphander

Nothing much about the masked villain moved except for her eyes when the others began entering the room. She met every questions with a simple and cold stare, waiting for everyone to be gathered. When that was finally the case, the purple haired apparent leader stood up and looked over everyone, her gaze landing lastly on Jack the Ripper behind her, lingering for a second more before moving.

"I am not impressed." she said as she slowly made her way to Ryan's place, taking the sheet from his hands as well as gathering the rest from the table, or anyone, having them before walking back to the tip of the table, laying them down neatly in a pile before her. Her mask had some electronic voice enhancer built into it, meaning that her voice was mostly unimpaired by the device - also meaning that this was no aesthetic device.

"You were all invited for your potential, so keep that in mind and leave any childish attitude and/or uselessly large ego out the door." Noxious tone was serious, commanding. Her eyes betrayed no traces of doubt, and the lack of half her face made it really hard to translate any emotions accurately.

"You all hate hero society for one reason or another. You all know that the League Of Villain's main goal is to destroy the symbol of peace. However... All Might left the country. He also left behind an echo of his twisted ideals; U.S.J.
A bastion of hypocrisy, bent on teaching a new generation of blinded and delusional youth. All Might's academy is led by an equally disgusting acquaintance of his; Enterprise."

As she spoke, the monitors displayed images of the academy including plans of the building and all sort of information such as accepted students and staff. An image of the Principle also appeared on screen. Among other things, she had been known for knowing the number one hero. These days, she was mostly known for being the leader of U.S.J, the country's most prestigious hero Academy. "Our goal is twofold; to destroy U.S.J utterly, one way or another and dispose of Enterprise. In doing so, All Might's stain will be removed from our Society...while we wait for him to disappear forever."

The monitors closed for now as Noxious turned back to her guests.
"An assault on the Academy would be foolish. As such, we will have agents on the inside. As for we."
She took another document that was on the console and threw in the middle of the table. It's content spilled across, revealing maps and plans of what looked like a high security building. A manufacture, actually. Hero's Gear manufacture.

"...we have other things to attend to first. Now; Questions?"