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In a world where things do not go quite as wrong, Erica ends up coming back to play with the Hellfire Club on more than one occasion (much to her brother’s chagrin). She's a good player, a skilled tactician, and seems to have better luck on high stakes rolls than anyone else.
She's also the only member who absolutely refuses to be impressed by Eddie in any capacity, and unbeknownst to the others, that's half the reason he keeps inviting her back.
The Lord of Hellfire persona is one hundred percent meant to awe and perhaps-slightly-intimidate both his friends and his freshmen. Theoretically, the fact that it means nothing to this kid should be annoying. In practice, however, he can’t help finding her anti-authority streak both really funny, and highly relatable. He's been mouthing off to people trying to intimidate him since he was still short enough to get beaten up for it. Erica Sinclair looking him dead in the eye from the nearly-two-foot height difference between them and calling him a long haired freak to his face is almost enough to make him nostalgic. Eleven year old Eddie would've done the same thing.
So Erica keeps coming back because she's the only person bold enough to check him, and this is funny until he is bluntly reminded that her calling out things his other minions wouldn't acknowledge doesn't just apply to D&D.
They're setting up for a session one evening, Mike and Jeff BOTH running late, which puts them a little behind schedule. Traditionally, this lack of punctuality would have Eddie royally pissed off. Gareth's been waiting on the start of one of his usual tirades promising dire consequences for late PCs, but tonight Eddie seems... oddly unbothered. He hasn't even mentioned it.
It's possible he's just trying to psych them all out. Lulling the party into a false sense of security by feigning indifference before busting out some truly horrifying encounters mid-session does sound like an Eddie move. But if the peace is an act, it's a pretty convincing one. He's setting his notes up behind the board, seemingly unaware of the club members waiting for the other shoe to drop, and humming something absentmindedly to himself.
Gareth squints, trying to place the melody. He's overheard Eddie humming that song a lot lately, and while it's definitely familiar, he can't quite remember what it is. He's pretty sure it's Sabbath, but whichever one it is, it's not on any of their setlists for CC.
It's at this point that Sinclair's younger sister abruptly looks up from her character sheet with an eye roll worthy of the greats and asks:
"The cheerleader AGAIN?"
Eddie goes still.
"Cheerleader?" Henderson asks, nonplussed. It sounds like nonsense, except that Gareth can tell from the way Eddie's staring down the deeply unimpressed middle schooler across the table that it definitely means something to him, and that he wasn't aware anyone else knew about it.
"The cheerleader who keeps finding excuses to come see him," she points at Eddie, who is now shooting her the kind of silencing glare that would melt anyone else's head. "God knows why. Doesn't she have any hobbies? It feels like any time I'm here a minute before the session or spend two seconds coming back to grab something after it's over, I'm risking walking in on you two doing that dumb thing where you each pretend you're not staring at each other-"
"Who?" Sinclair asks, looking torn between stopping his sister from provoking the DM into a preemptive Total Party Kill and figuring out what the fuck she's talking about.
"I don't know," the kid makes a face like expecting her to remember the names of people she doesn't particularly know or care about is asking far too much of her. "Blonde? Short? Used to date your loser friend?"
"Which loser friend?" Henderson asks, intrigued, and Gareth can SEE Eddie deciding which character is going to be first to die after Lady Applejack. Violently.
"The annoying one from the basketball team," Sinclair the Younger clarifies dismissively, and Gareth feels his jaw drop as he suddenly understands exactly who she's talking about.
"Chrissy?" Sinclair asks, sounding almost as flabbergasted as Gareth feels right now. She can't be serious. "Are you talking about Chrissy Cunningham?"
"Don't know," his sister rolls her eyes again. "Don't care. All I know is that every time she comes by to see him, he'll be humming that same stupid song over and over again afterwards until I'm ready to blow my brains out. EVERY time. You know you can mix it up a little, right?"
This last comment is directed at Eddie, and is followed by the kind of silence that occurs when people are too afraid to breathe. Gareth carefully makes sure to be looking at his character sheet and nothing else.
"You know," Eddie says finally in a voice as cold as the grave and promising suffering. "Harassing your DM tends to end in permanent death for your character."
"Take your best fucking shot," Erica says sweetly.
Jeff and Wheeler suddenly crash in through the door at the same time, talking over one another as they both try to apologize for being late. Eddie turns his attention to them, and everyone present for the previous discussion abruptly busies themself with any possible distraction.
As Gareth sorts through his dice for whichever set seems most likely to keep him alive during what's looking to be a very brief and bloody campaign, the name of the song Eddie's apparently had in his head on repeat abruptly hits him, and he goes into a brief coughing fit trying to stifle surprised laughter.
Eddie's been humming Sabbra Cadabra.