[rl with apollo: fight]

A scary thing indeed when Trish was in a mood like this. She stood on the roof top of Devil May Cry, the scent of blood radiating off of her, caked on her skin as if it was clay. Though, the demon wore them with pride- blood lust or no. She waited for Apollo, blood pumping hard in her veins, her demonic aura stronger than ever. When Dante saw her in this mood, they'd fight, spar - he'd dominate her entirely, pinned the floor, her hissing, Rebellion at her throat.

... For her sake, she hoped that Apollo could do the same thing.