Pam (hvic) wrote in zombieslogs, @ 2013-05-12 10:49:00 |
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Entry tags: | pamela swynford de beaufort, tara thornton |
Who: Pam and Tara
What: Proving who are the bitches in charge
When: Monday
Where: Glory's hideout
Warnings: It's Pam. And Tara. So, yes.
While the rest of the town seemed to be moping about the possibility of this being the end of the world, Pam wasn't worried. She was more focused on the fight at hand because, ever since Jessica had been killed, there had been a storm brewing inside of her that needed to be let out. Pam did not do grief well, and she hated this fucking Glory not just for killing Bill's progeny, but for putting her in this damn position where she was actually grieving someone to the extent that she was. Because, even if she did not show it often, she had grown to care for the redhead as much as her cold dead heart could care about someone. She had been too young to have been killed. She had not deserved it, and the motherfucking bitch would be stopped if that was the last thing she did.
As nightfall fell, Pam grew silent as she prepared for this. Her temper was raging, but for the first time she wasn't cursing up a storm. Not yet, she let that storm grow stronger instead, and that fire that was burning inside her was converting into a cold fury that would allow her to tear in half whoever got in her way. She didn't care about demons, or minions, or whatever the hell was helping the bitch. Pam was on a mission to set the world on fire with the blood of anyone even closely associated to Glory, and she'd be damned if anything would get in her way. This wasn't about teams, or associations with the prison, or even helping out the survivors. Sure, she did not want to die or be dragged down to hell before it was time, but this was about Jessica. This was about the blond touching something that wasn't hers.
Hair pulled back into a tight ponytail, dressed in black skintight clothes, she met Tara outside of Fangtasia as agreed. By now Pam's flying ability had been mastered, and as she took her progeny's hand so she could fly them over to where they had to go, she looked over at her. "Hang tight." She paused and, even if her expression didn't change, her tone sounded as if it softened at least in the slightest. "And don't fucking die, you hear me?"