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[center][sub]Prince Ed-Field, New Raygate[/sub]
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After getting checked out by the DOVE doctors and having that interview with that rude lady, Jackson took the next few days to rest up. There wasn’t much he could do on account that his leg left him with limited mobility. He could still walk on it but it wasn’t without its own fair share of discomfort. He knew that hewouldn’t be doing any heroics any time soon - well, not on the levels of The Golden Throne, that is. Little acts, however, were still up for debate.
 
Like the previous days, Jackson was on his couch watching tv. His leg was propped up on his coffee table with a pillow under it. He groaned at how he was forced to be like this. He didn’t want this. He wanted to be out doing  [i]something[/i]. It didn’t matter if it was just getting some fresh air or going for a walk. If he could at least do one thing that didn’t involve him sitting on his ass seeing the same anti-metahuman politicians going on about tighter restrictions on them.  Seriously, the more he had to watch them go on and on the more Jackson wanted to forsake doctor’s orders. In fact..
 
Jackson removed his leg from the table, though he didn’t anticipate how much it would hurt when his foot hit the floor. The pain was like a needle trailing along the back of his neck. This, of course, caused him to screech in pain.
 
“What are you doing?” A female voice said. She wasn’t happy.
 
“I can’t just sit here.” Jackson stated, “these politicians have no idea what happened. They just want to rile up the fears in the normal humans.” Jackson said, looking to the female who had her arms folded across her chest. 
 
She was a caucasian woman with dirty blonde hair and hazel eyes. She was average height, weight, and build. She wore clothes that were neither poor nor expensive, which gave the impression that she was middle class. Her cheekbones and overall physical appearance was like were fair for someone of her age(mid-20s).
 
“What good do you think walking on that injured foot of yours will do? You and I both know that just trying to walk on it gives you great pain.”
 
Jackson sighed heavily. “Don’t worry too much, Nicole, I’ll be fine.” 
 
“The hell you will be.”
 
“You’re right. I won’t be if I have to stay in this crummy apartment for a second longer. You can either help me get down those stairs, or you can stand there, but I am leaving regardless if you help or not.”
 
That seemed to silence her. Nicole would go to Jackson’s room and get him his white crutches, and with her help, he was able to leave his apartment, go down the flight of stairs that led to the outside. The two of them would hail a taxi. Jackson wanted to head downtown to see for himself how bad things were. Simply watching the protests weren't enough. Jackson wanted to be a part of them so he could feel like he was actually contributing to something worthwhile and not being on the sidelines like he had been the past few days.