[center][color=FireBrick][h1]Oshea Jackson[/h1][/color][/center]
[center][img]https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRjtfO2BcJ4mxrdczwdEbebi4Gzn4cKHY2FO1grfvoVWaMg9LSa63bMfE9A[/img][/center]
[center]"Be careful who you make an enemy of, 'cause his only thought is ta get you before you get him."
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Oshea is jolted awake by a force benevolent. Whosoever intervened on his behalf he would make sure to pray to later. He clambered up onto his feet and placed a single hand on the wall beside him. He tried to hop, but the slightest vibration ziplined up into his leg and dispersed its unforgiving ache all throughout his lower back and nestled itself amidst his broken leg. He was not going to get far on his own. Not to mention, it would be a long time before he could run again--though he was a mutant, and a speedster at that, so perhaps his body healed faster than normal--regardless, if he made it out of here whole, he'd have to re-evaluate exactly what his purpose is at the Institute. No speedster was of any use with a bum leg; nor was he any use with sundered confidence.

[color=FireBrick] "C--came this far. . . can't S-S-S-ARGHR! Can't... stop now!"[/color]

There was not much which would aid in relieving his sole good leg from bearing the weight of what used to be Oshea's dominant leg. He could feel the arm meant to support him preparing to give way, and so he obliged his body's forewarning and sat near the end of the hallway closer to the entrance in hopes one of his teammates (injured or not) would come rescue him. God knows he needed it. If there was one thing Oshea [i]did[/i] know, it's that he'd even his trifle with Quicksilver soon as he was better.