Launceston, TasMANIA[War for Australia]

Sitting atop a large rock, her feet drew circles on the sand beneath her. Her hands clasped tightly against one another, it was clear. She was thinking. There was no smile. There was no joy. However, she was not sad. She was worried. In her mind, lately, she had been uneasy. The drums of war thundered yet again. They drew near. She could hear them. She could see them. She could smell them. The stench. It filled the air. It suffocated her. Part of her however, the part she always tried to keep at bay liked it. It craved for it.

Part of her wanted to stay. In the safety. Far away from the battlefield. The other side of her pushed her, seeking the violence and the predicaments of war. In between her inner conflict, her thoughts were caught off guard as a garganta opened not farm from her. Assuming the worst, she got onto her feet and rushed to the location. No way she thought to herself. Jigoku had returned and badly injured. She could only imagine the magnitude of the battle and the perils those present would face. In an enhanced inner conflict, she did not quite know what to do. She wanted to take one or two steps backward. But something within her wanted to step forward. It was something dark and sinister. In fact, it was that within her which she feared, even more than the potential outcome of the battle.

As hollows and other denizens rushed past her ahead and towards the back, she had remained immobile for what seemed like minutes. Eyes closed, it was as if she was looking within herself and speaking with whomever resided within the mysterious nadirs of her being. With a sudden and unexpected smirk she raised her gaze to project an expression unlike it had ever been seen from her. It was not a completely foreign expression however. Though at a lower degree, it was not unlike the expression she sported when she released, but she had not released. At least not yet. Taking a couple steps forward it was as if the smile got progressively larger and more sinister the more she neared the garganta almost as if the thought and the idea of battle produced feelings so sublime they could have even been compared to those of sexual arousal.

Foregoing the numbers of those who ran in the opposite way and those who rushed in her same direction, her mind was focused. Battle. It was likely that Camilla was still there, and still fighting. The very subtle personality of the sealed Pamela did care for Camilla and wished nothing but to aid in her protection. However, the momentary sinister entity that had taken over Pamela had a very different and insidious agenda in mind. She wanted battled. She craved blood. She desired victory. At any cost and through any means necessary.

Stepping through the garganta, it was as if the travel through it did not exist. She wasn't quite sure how long it had taken her to arrive at her destination, but it was almost as if that moment in time had been severed from her memory. In a way however, it was. Battle was all that mattered right now. Stepping out of the garganta she scanned the area glancing at the nearly devastated battlefield. One would have imagined that the Pamela that was so commonly seen during her seal state would be horrified and saddened by the events. Perhaps it was just right that her more sinister identity had taken control over her for the duration of the battle. It was needed. Both for her survival and for utter enjoyment.

Cracking her knuckles, her neck, her toes and her ankles, it was almost as if she couldn't stay still. She had even managed to overlook the presences, even if for a mere second. It wasn't long however, before she caught wind of the overwhelmingly powerful spiritual pressures in the area. Instead of frightening her however, they excited her. It would have been a very different situation if the released persona had not taken over Pamela's sealed state however. Because of the levels of strength present, it was a given that sooner or later Pamela would be forced to release, and that was just fine with her. No...it was perfect. Releasing would just make the sinister personality even stronger. And that would just contribute and help her in the fight.

Rushing in Camilla's general direction, she saw her engage some large bucket of bolts. She couldn't really care who he was, but she'd always wanted to smelt some scrap metal. One could only imagine that the sealed Pamela would be turning and flailing about within her at the reaction and the behavior her other identity was showing, but she had no control at the moment. Right now, her darker side was in control, and it would not let go of her until all the fighting had subsided. It was fairly certain that almost no one had seen Pamela's darker personality, not even Camilla. It was not as if Camilla would care much either way, or perhaps she would. But her strikingly different behavior was likely bound to at least cause the slightest impression. Materializing her bow and her quiver it was almost as if she couldn't wait to get her hands on her weapon and begin the battle. It was exhilarating.

From a considerable distance away she looked on. Even at the level of strength of her opponent, even at the rare chance that he had chosen to attack her, it would still take a good few seconds before he could get in range. Before she could be attacked or noticed however, she drew on her string and shot two arrows on fairly random directions. One was shot not very far from Camilla and the bucket of bolts, but far enough where it would definitely not hit them. The arrow simply caved onto itself after traveling for so long without meeting a surface to impact. The other arrow however, had gone considerably astray, and into the side far from the two. This one however, instead of caving onto itself, had dissipated as it created a very small-sized dark glowing hole. It was likely nothing to worry about for the time being.

By then, it would have been impossible not to have noticed her presence in the battlefield. It was possible that either Camilla or the scrap metal person would have spoken to her. But she'd listen to none of it. At least not until she had been done speaking. Stepping their way at a very slow pace, she materialized a single arrow into her hand although she had her quiver just behind her. There was no sudden motion to it. The arrow simply held in her hand as her short, slow steps neared them. "Hello. I am Pamela. As of this moment, I am dead. I go into battle to reclaim my life. This I will gladly do for I am an Arrancar. Remember: 'Victory, is life'" With that, the arrow caved onto itself in her hands after she swung it down creating another small dark hole where the arrow had been run through. One step forward, and one held back, she leaned forward some, as if ready for anything. The battle was likely to intensify, but regardless of the powers present, she had a lot under her sleeve. And there was much more to come if she released. Terrifying perhaps. But the likely possibility. It thrilled her.