[center][color=004b80][h1][b][i]~Jericho Brooks~[/i][/b][/h1][/color]
[img]http://i656.photobucket.com/albums/uu288/wittywolf35/guy3-1.jpg[/img][/center]
[color=004b80][center][h3][b][i]~The Partay~[/i][/b][/h3][/center]

Surprised at the new guy's sudden departure, he shrugged as Lang rushed off towards the sound of a crash from inside. It seemed the miscreant and he were related in some way. With a raised eyebrow, he watched the large and well-muscled Lang push his way through the milling crowd. He soon disappeared into the cabin and Jericho felt a sense of relief. Grif owed him big time, it seemed Lang had been quickly getting onto Erin's hard to find good side.

Jericho's expression was a mask of what seemed to be almost genuine surprise at Erin's biting tone. With one hand poised theatrically on his chest, he gasped audibly, making a few of the demigods turn in interest to see what was going on. "You aren't?! And after all this time, this is the first I've heard of it.." With a wolfish grin, he snatched the cup from Erin's clutches, careful not to spill any on her dress, which was actually quite nice. Taking a sip, his mouth twisted slightly at the taste of gin. No matter the quality, he could never get used to that dry aftertaste! "Nice drink you got there, babe. Listen, you stormed off before I could give you my coming back present!" He ducked under the table with an easy movement, his coordination not at all affected even as he finished his second, fairly strong drink. He rolled his eyes at Erin's threat, completely unbelieving that she'd follow through. "Can it, Princess of the Bones. You'll be singing a different tune when you see what I got ya!" His grin was confident as he patted the left breast of his jacket. "Now all I need is-- Grif!"

Jericho's grin went even wider as Erin and his mutual friend, the snarky Irishman, Grif made his way through dancing and conversing demigods. He went straight to the drink stand, mixing himself a tasty beverage, before turning to Erin and Jericho. Strange, the guy always had a witty one-liner to fire Jericho's way and there wasn't something about the guy that seemed less than his usual bouncy self. "Grif, my man!" Jericho said with enthusiasm, grabbing Grif's free right hand, clasping it, and then pulling him into a one armed hug, clapping the back of his back familiarly. All this, and the man's new drink had barely been jostled. "I've got something for the both of you, I'm glad you found us! How's camp life been treating you, broski?"[/color]