Evangeline is shocked when Mercia jerks her by the collar. This..was -not- the Inquisitor she was used to, but she keeps her composure as  shes pushed against the wall, until that is Mercia leans in. Her breath hitches in her throat as she is completely caught off guard . Mercia was never this harsh with her...(granted she did plunge a dagger into her sternum mid coitus last they were alone)...she's shocked, amazed,beside her self even....and she's never-ever-been more turned on.  The psyker swallows back her arousal and composes her self as Mercia pulls her collar tight to accentuate her words, nose to nose...nearly mouth to mouth.  Those lips..by the warp, the chaos gods and anything else slightly heretical - she wanted to devour the Inquisitors lips. To let the Inquisitor take out all of her ire..hate and obvious hurt out on her with a smile on her lips. She catches her self before her trembling lips lean in enough to actually make contact- and plays it off by giving a twisted, shit eating grin as she's pushed away.<br/><br/>She doesn't love Mercia. Not in the slightest. No way, not  now, not ever and she never would.  It took a long while to convince her self of this fact, and it is a pillar of her strength. Deep down however, she isn't sure. So the shit eating grin of contempt is the absolute best she has to offer, and it takes all the strength she has not to crack and break. To beg and plead the Inquisitor..or to lash out and be punished further. To be given a smaller room, a stronger collar, and even shackles. Anything was better then this stage of..nothingness. Evangeline was a woman of extremes...and anything was better then nothing.<br/><br/>She tries to adjust her gaze to the goings on. To listen to the reports of the disease, but before she can the blonde woman has snaked up next to her , whispering against her ear. Her voice is almost hauntingly seductive, each word fumbling over her lips like a thick candied syrup.  She raises her brow at the implications and stares straight forward as the woman doesn't miss a beat and walks ahead.  Evangeline can't help her hedonism...sex was power and she fucking ached for power. -And this one...well. She looked like she was more then a few well placed enticing words.  She watches the blond woman's backside as she sways her hips back and forth, swallowing hard as she's still a little thrown by what's just transpired. For once she's quiet , head tilted to the side as she gazes longingly at the other womans backside, appreciating beauty any way she can get it.<br/><br/>She looks up , pretending to listen. Blah blah virus..blah blah walking dead...blah blah something hive blah blah fucking blah.  All she can think is to look between the Inquisitor and the strange acolyte..to notice the similarities of the short blond hair and grin to her self...she certainly had a type. She coughs a little and pipes up quietly..<span style="color: olive">"This sounds like a fucking suicide mission ...Lord."</span>she uses the formal title this time, unsure if she can hold back if Mercia comes at her again.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>