I Usually Don't Break Anything When I Do It, Though
The mannequin fell with a loud crash, the head rolling, stopped from flying down onto the Rue Scribe only by virtue of the small wall surrounding the roof of the Palais Garnier.
"You were supposed to circle the neck. That was all. Throw the lasso to circle the neck."
"That is what I did."
"You pulled the wire too sharply. Gentle movement, allow the lasso to do the work."
"I suppose you never made a mistake when using this thing," Nadir growled.
"One cannot afford to make mistakes, but no…I usually do not break anything when I do it, though," Erik retorts. "That mannequin took me months to make –it is physiologically correct and was suited to you learning how to use the lasso. Now it is broken," he says, retrieving the head, taking it back to the body. He shakes his head.
"What?"
"You completely decapitated her, the workings have fallen into the torso – I shall have to fasten her head back on somehow – with a metal rod and plating I imagine."
"You said you did not care if she was damaged."
"Damaged, not destroyed and useless."
"I am surprised you are using it…her at all," Nadir sniggers.
Erik's amber eyes flash at him, causing his own green eyes to widen, comforted in the fact he is holding the garrote not the man glaring at him.
"Christine said get her out of the house – she was a good friend, but one does what one must to maintain a happy household."
"Best you not teach Christine the art of the Punjab lasso."
"Very funny."