[color=black][b][h2]I've Seen Enough Japanese Cartoons To Know Where This Is Going[/h2][/b][/color]
For a while, the vampire simply lost himself in the slaughter of the eel-like monstrosities. It was about as fun as he'd expected, actually - for once, he could just kill and kill and kill, and nobody in their right minds would try to shame him for pulling these things in half, when not only had they attacked him first, but clearly weren't likely to go extinct any time soon for how many of them stuck around. Erina, to her credit, did almost as good a job at keeping up, her movements... Bend's, perhaps... as fluid as they had been in Motley's fight with her, and against a foe who wasn't nigh-immortal, she actually had the opportunity to show how skilled she was with a blade as she cut down tentacle beast after tentacle beast. How skilled he was- [i]You know what, pretend Bend is her Stand, or an aspect of it, and assume it's her skill whenever he's possessed her,[/i] he prompted himself.

Unlike him, however, she was not tireless. Not to suggest she wasn't extremely fit, but after what must have been fifteen minutes of eel after eel emerging from the water and attempting to alternately bite them both and drag them under, she was beginning to show nearly-imperceptible signs of flagging. Those would turn into more drastic failures in due course, and sooner or later develop into catastrophic defeat and death by tentacle eel. He couldn't have that.

Over the next minute or so, Motley fought his way over to his ally, eventually placing himself back at her side, and wondered why he hadn't stayed there the whole time. Probably because the challenge appealed to him, he considered... the situation was slightly different now. And speaking of which, different circumstances called for different combat styles; without asking, he hauled Erina over one shoulder by the waist, much to her chagrin, before allow Heavy Fuel to flow out of him, the oil crackling with his life-sapping energy and lashing out with clawed skeletal hands to spear and crush any of the tentacle-things that felt they needed to leap toward him or his partner.

With a clear space of about two meters now surrounding him, Motley began to run full-speed toward the district of temples he'd been heading for earlier. And when he needed to run, he could really run.

In a few seconds, he was crossing over the water and dozens of meters away from where he'd started, a slick of vaporising crude oil and withered tentacles in his wake. Within a minute, he was well and truly within the temple district, and in a much less flooded section of land than before. Suffice to say, the tentacles weren't following after him any longer; feeling much safer, he dismissed Heavy Fuel and deposited Erina on the ground next to him, a much angrier ally than before.

[color=bc8dbf]'Do you mind not picking me up without asking?!'[/color] she yelled at him, her upset tone not exactly called for.

[color=black]'You were going to die if I didn't,[/color] Motley retorted. [color=black]'And you knew that, too, didn't you?'[/color]

[color=bc8dbf]'I was doing fine, thanks for asking, [i]vampire.[/i]'[/color]

[color=black]'...so by your logic, what you actually mean is "I did need the help, and I greatly appreciate your input, Motley." You're very welcome, Erina.'[/color]

[color=bc8dbf]'Wh- ...you- ahahaha, nooo, nooooo... n-no.'[/color] Heavens to Betsy, was she blushing? [color=bc8dbf]'Shut up I'm not.'[/color]

[color=black]'I said nothing.'[/color]

[color=bc8dbf]'You said it with your eyes.'[/color]

[color=black]'...well, either way,'[/color] Motley continued, smirking just a bit at the kitsune's embarrassment, [color=black]'I need you rested for our next fight. If you're tired, you'll be less useful. Speaking of which,'[/color] he recalled, [color=black]'are you sufficiently fed and watered?'[/color]

[color=bc8dbf][sub]'Maybe if you hadn't barged in whilst I was eating...'[/sub][/color]

Oh goodness, now she was pouting and folding her arms over herself. How impetuous. Or, still embarrassed.

[color=black]'Bend?'[/color]

'She had seven bread rolls, three glasses of water, and an entire packet of what looked like mangled pork,' a voice listed.

[color=bc8dbf]'Bend, come on, I'm trying to be annoyed with him.'[/color]

[color=black]'It hasn't worked. Anyway, you should be alright for now, in that case...'[/color]

And having said that, it was simply a matter of trying to figure out where they were in relation to their opponent. Motley looked around, admiring the quite impressive religious scenery, featuring saints in one glass pane, a martyr in the next, presumably-angelic beings bearing blades and leaves in another. He had no personal issue with religious institutions, himself, though he considered the concept of religion to be a bit of a fallacy in this day and age - after all, what sort of god would allow a man to stride across the world as an undead creature of the night, well beyond his intended lifespan? Of course, if you'd asked him back in the 1930's, the answer might have been a tad different... but feelings like that had dulled over time. He had more material matters to consider nowadays.

Like where his opponent was, damn it. What sort of absurd time limit was a single day in an area as large as a city, anyway? Ridiculous.