[color=DarkCyan][center][img]http://i1150.photobucket.com/albums/o620/Vicier/Vicier%20-%20Percy%20Jackson%20Roleplay%20-%20Characters/Erin%20Marie%20Chase%20-%20Gif%2002_zpsb9nelzvr.gif[/img]
[h1]Erin Marie Chase[/h1]
[h2]Hades Cabin ~ Camp Half-Blood[/h2][/center]

[i]The tall man peered down at the ground, and pretended to notice him. “The little lord Tyrion,” he said. “My pardons. I did not see you standing there.”

“I am in no mood for your insolence today.” Tyrion turned to his nephew. “Joffrey, it is past time you called on Lord Eddard and his lady, to offer them your comfort.”

Joffrey looked as petulant as only a boy prince can look. “What good will my comfort do them?”

“None,” Tyrion said. “Yet is it expected of you. Your absence has been noted.”

“The Stark boy is nothing to me,” Joffrey said. “I cannot abide the wailing of women.”

Tyrion Lannister reached up and slapped his nephew hard across the face. The boy’s cheek began to redden.

“One word,” Tyrion said, “and I will hit you again.”

“I’m going to tell Mother!” Joffrey exclaimed.

Tyrion hit him again. Now both cheeks flamed.

“You tell your mother,” Tyrion told him. “But first you get yourself to Lord and Lady Stark, and you fall to your knees in front of them, and you tell them how very sorry you are, and that you are at their service if there is the slightest thing you can do for them or theirs in this desperate hour, and that all your prayers go with them. Do you understand? Do you?”

The boy looked as though he was going to cry. Instead, he managed a weak nod. Then he turned and fled headlong from the yard, holding his cheek. Tyrion watched him run.

A shadow fell across his face. He turned to find Clegane looming overhead like a cliff. His soot-dark armor seemed to blot out the sun. He had lowered the visor on his helm. It was fashioned in the likeness of a snarling black hound, fearsome to behold, but Tyrion had always thought it a great improvement over Clegane’s hideously burned face.

“The prince will remember that, little lord,” the Hound warned him. The helm turned his laugh into a hollow rumble.

“I pray he does,” Tyrion Lannister replied. “If he forgets, be a good dog and remind him.” He glanced around the courtyard. “Do you know where I might find my brother?”[/i]

The sound of a familiar rapping against the door of her cabin pulled her attention away from the words that were written clear over the pages of her novel; three knocks, a pause, and then two more. It was clear as day who was calling her at this hour, and even clearer as to [i]why[/i] they were calling around her cabin; though why he hadn’t called ahead and told her that he was returning back to the camp was far beyond her. This was always how it went; he left without so much as a word about where he was going, she would get pissed off for a couple of days before falling back into a normal routine, and then on his return he would bring her a gift to try and ease the anger she felt towards him- it was a system that he seemed to have perfected over the years that they had been close with one another.

Whatever it was that he wanted; he could piss off. She knew what was going to happen. The very moment that she opened the door for him, he was going to bring up the fact there was a party going on a couple of cabins down; and he was going to continue to bring it up until finally, she gave in and decided to go to the stupid thing. Jericho was special… not just for being a male, but also for a demigod; and it had nothing to do with the fact that he was the son of Artemis- it was something she had quickly figured out when the both of them began speaking with one another all those years ago. Sighing out in exasperation at the fact that he wasn’t going to leave without some sort of response from her, she shook her head lightly, her soft pink lips parting slightly as she went to speak; her words completely cut off as the sound of her door opening, and a fresh voice that she didn’t know quite as well reached her ears and filled the room, the interruption however never once causing her hand to stop moving over the felines black fur.

“Curious… Would you look at this Salem; the bimbo from the Aphrodite cabin meets with me once, and she believes that she has the right to come barging into my cabin. And then on top of that, she believes herself worthy of asking to borrow some of my clothes- how... misguided.” Slipping the hand that she had been using to pet the black feline, she twisted the book around and placed it down on the coffee table as she lifted herself up from where she had been perched on the couch, holding Salem close against her chest as she turned to face the both of them; her dark eyes lingering on Jericho’s figure for a few moments before she turned her attention over to the girl who had waltzed in as though she owned the place, the corners of her lips turning up as a small though amused and slightly devilish smirk played over her features.

“No- please, what would make you think that this is a bad time..? Come right on in; we’ll have a drink, change into our pj’s, watch a movie… maybe even braid each other’s hair.” Tilting her head ever so slightly to the side, she shook it slowly, her dark eyes never once leaving her figure as she took only a few steps, making her way around the couch; though being sure to keep distance between her and her uninvited guests, “I don’t know what sort of deluded impression you got from our little meeting, but you and I… we’re not friends. We’re not going to sing karaoke; I’m not going to paint your nails, and we don’t go sharing clothes with one another. So unless you’re here to test the limits of my patience; get out of my cabin, and don’t come back unless you’re invited… and that’s never going to happen. So try not to drip too much on the runner on your way out.”

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