Pam Swynford De Beaufort (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lazy_but_loyal) wrote2014-09-30 02:51 pm
lazy_but_loyal) wrote2014-09-30 02:51 pm
Entry tags:
OOM: Fangtasia
She woke up alone.
Fangtasia was empty and quiet. In the solitude before opening time, Pam got ready for the evening -- something simple, just slim black jeans and a black-and-lavender patterned zip-up jacket, accessorizing with a pewter choker (silver-free) with a pair of sunglasses to hold her hair back from her face, and keeping her makeup light and casual as well.
It was her way of getting over last night. She wasn't angry at Eric for losing his temper with her. Just a little sore. She certainly didn't enjoy pissing him off. In fact she realized she probably pressed him too insistently, but sometimes pushing his buttons was the only way to get him to pull his head out of his ass.
They're both under a shitload of pressure. At least one of them has got to keep it together. And she would rather it be him.
Emerging from the back rooms, Pam heads for Eric's office...and finds the door half off its hinges. She heaves a beleaguered sigh. She'll have to call someone in to repair it.
Before she does that, though, she goes to the safe and retrieves last night's receipts to go through. Usually that's Eric's task, or at least a thing to do to pass the time, but since she doesn't know if he's coming in tonight, she supposes it's her task now.
So she settles in at his desk with a bottle of TruBlood. And begins to do her nails.
It's then that she remembers it's Ginger's night off. Ugh, oh well. As soon as the staff starts trickling in within an hour or two, she'll delegate the work.
Pam is filing the middle fingernail of her left hand when she hears a loud noise. A forceful bang at the front door. Then men's voices, and the trampling of heavy boots.
"What the fuck..." she mutters, and she gets up, rushing into the hall when she stops short at the closed STAFF ONLY door.
A familiar voice, sneering and reptilian, gives out an order:
"Search every inch of this place. Find every drop of V -- and find Eric Northman!"
It's the Magister.
Pam gasps and doubles back.
She's got to warn Eric.
With vampire speed she flees down to the dungeon to hide. But she knows she doesn't have much time until the Magister and his henchmen finish scouring every room, nook, and cranny. They'll find the V.
And then they'll find her.
She digs her phone out of her pocket and calls Eric.
Fangtasia was empty and quiet. In the solitude before opening time, Pam got ready for the evening -- something simple, just slim black jeans and a black-and-lavender patterned zip-up jacket, accessorizing with a pewter choker (silver-free) with a pair of sunglasses to hold her hair back from her face, and keeping her makeup light and casual as well.
It was her way of getting over last night. She wasn't angry at Eric for losing his temper with her. Just a little sore. She certainly didn't enjoy pissing him off. In fact she realized she probably pressed him too insistently, but sometimes pushing his buttons was the only way to get him to pull his head out of his ass.
They're both under a shitload of pressure. At least one of them has got to keep it together. And she would rather it be him.
Emerging from the back rooms, Pam heads for Eric's office...and finds the door half off its hinges. She heaves a beleaguered sigh. She'll have to call someone in to repair it.
Before she does that, though, she goes to the safe and retrieves last night's receipts to go through. Usually that's Eric's task, or at least a thing to do to pass the time, but since she doesn't know if he's coming in tonight, she supposes it's her task now.
So she settles in at his desk with a bottle of TruBlood. And begins to do her nails.
It's then that she remembers it's Ginger's night off. Ugh, oh well. As soon as the staff starts trickling in within an hour or two, she'll delegate the work.
Pam is filing the middle fingernail of her left hand when she hears a loud noise. A forceful bang at the front door. Then men's voices, and the trampling of heavy boots.
"What the fuck..." she mutters, and she gets up, rushing into the hall when she stops short at the closed STAFF ONLY door.
A familiar voice, sneering and reptilian, gives out an order:
"Search every inch of this place. Find every drop of V -- and find Eric Northman!"
It's the Magister.
Pam gasps and doubles back.
She's got to warn Eric.
With vampire speed she flees down to the dungeon to hide. But she knows she doesn't have much time until the Magister and his henchmen finish scouring every room, nook, and cranny. They'll find the V.
And then they'll find her.
She digs her phone out of her pocket and calls Eric.