(Untitled)

[atlantismother]

New Atlantis, like her mother city, persisted. Time passed, the world, whichever it was on, turned. The Island played its games, and dealt its tricks, and dear friends and family vanished without a word. Eras faded from one to another, and those who called it home changed from generation to generation, yet New Atlantis persisted. For every dear

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[spirited_hero]

[atlantismother]

She'd been quite absorbed in inspecting her ankle--which was in fact sprained, but apparently not so badly as she expected it to be--but one did not live on Atlantis for as long as she had, or even spend so long as she did heading up international negotiations, and not develop a keen perephial vision.

That said, she didn't immediately recognize the young man who approached her until the recognition flashed in his own face. She'd encountered him before, railing against the bookshelf, if she recalled correctly.

She straightened somewhat, and offered him a small smile. "It's not as bad as it looks. I think the clothing's got the worst part of the deal."

[OOC: Apologies, the comp died, and didn't know the PW]

[spirited_hero]

[atlantismother]

It was understandable. She'd had her own violent urges toward the island from time to time. Most often, it was before, in the days she'd first found herself on the island, but she couldn't say she never felt it since.

She frowned down at the ankle a moment, before giving a slight nod. "I suppose I should let Doctor Keller look at it." She offered the youth another smile, and held out a hand for help.

[OOC: I don't even knowwww how this didn't get tagged.]

[shot_my_shoes]

As he was going for a wander, Harry had spotted Elizabeth, but had seen her fall before he could call out to her, or get much closer. He couldn't tell from this distance whether she'd done anything serious or just bruised herself, but you never could tell, so he jogged over to her.

"Are you all right?" he asked, kneeling down beside her.

[atlantismother]

Her head was starting to spin, so it was possible that landing wasn't quite as good as she thought it was. Fortunately, her ankle didn't appear to be nearly as wrecked as it felt like. That was a plus, at least.

She winced, and turned her gaze toward the familiar face of Harry Sullivan. "Yes, I think I just sprained an ankle. I suppose it's my own fault, not paying attention to my own front yard."

[OOC: Sorry! My computer died, and I didn't know the password to Lizzie.]