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Repair (Hannibal)
(Backdated to this night)
The hanging clock read 7:39. Erik finally rose from his desk chair and eased his way toward the door. With the help of his assistant, they'd managed to call everyone to cancel the evening's work schedule. Tomorrow, he was sure the City would mend the damage done to his precious Opera House, and practice and work would go on as usual. He would not allow the season to be set back yet again. It had suffered too many delays already.
Fortunately, the Hulk's destruction had not harmed any of the ones who worked here, although some of those with more delicate constitutions who had been within the Opera House walls were shaken. He was uncertain he could say that the sets and props were undamaged, however. He needed to see for himself.
Gritting his teeth, he moved carefully down the evening-lit hall toward the stage. Light headed, he set his gloved hand against the wall and kept it there, letting it help him walk toward his destination. There were none within the Opera House now to see his weakness. But the climb up the steps backstage was far more difficult than it should have been. He was obliged to pause half-way, his grip on the railing so tight as to bruise his palm.
The hanging clock read 7:39. Erik finally rose from his desk chair and eased his way toward the door. With the help of his assistant, they'd managed to call everyone to cancel the evening's work schedule. Tomorrow, he was sure the City would mend the damage done to his precious Opera House, and practice and work would go on as usual. He would not allow the season to be set back yet again. It had suffered too many delays already.
Fortunately, the Hulk's destruction had not harmed any of the ones who worked here, although some of those with more delicate constitutions who had been within the Opera House walls were shaken. He was uncertain he could say that the sets and props were undamaged, however. He needed to see for himself.
Gritting his teeth, he moved carefully down the evening-lit hall toward the stage. Light headed, he set his gloved hand against the wall and kept it there, letting it help him walk toward his destination. There were none within the Opera House now to see his weakness. But the climb up the steps backstage was far more difficult than it should have been. He was obliged to pause half-way, his grip on the railing so tight as to bruise his palm.