Grey continued to sing, but her song became distorted, and odd. No longer was the meter a familiar rhythm- now, it continuously changed, from fours to threes to sevens, from halves to wholes to sixteenths, altering and switching within several different tempos without hesitation. Disorienting to the listener, as there was no predictable beat whatsoever, it was the sort of esoteric music which only a musician could understand (or enjoy). A musician, and her shadows, that is. She paused every so often to take a breath, the only consistency in the song.
The first shadow flew in from above, then dissipated above Kaito, creating a shroud of darkness from above. It was not nearly enough to blind him, that would take hours to create, but it was enough to dim the area, as though a fog had set in. The two flanking Kaito, with identical motions from either side, rushed in, each reaching out with a dozen clawed arms, their forms shifting into grotesque and foreign shapes reminiscent of nightmares. They swiped with precision, with impressive speed and force, aiming at every joint they could see in Kaito's body.
The one in the rear, however, did not approach. It stopped, a few spans away from Kaito, poised and ready to fight. Unlike the others with their constantly changing bodies, this one seemed to be slowing, settling in on a preferred form. It had not decided yet, but it would soon enough.
The blood pooling in Grey's upturned palms had begun to drip down her arms, mingling with the sweat pervading her skin. It was not torrential, but it was enough that the audience could see that her hands were injured. Her robe clung to her skin along her upper arms and chest and back, where the sweat had soaked through the thick fabric. She kept singing to strengthen her beasts, tensing her muscles, her eyes locked shut. Her trust was in those shadows.
The first shadow flew in from above, then dissipated above Kaito, creating a shroud of darkness from above. It was not nearly enough to blind him, that would take hours to create, but it was enough to dim the area, as though a fog had set in. The two flanking Kaito, with identical motions from either side, rushed in, each reaching out with a dozen clawed arms, their forms shifting into grotesque and foreign shapes reminiscent of nightmares. They swiped with precision, with impressive speed and force, aiming at every joint they could see in Kaito's body.
The one in the rear, however, did not approach. It stopped, a few spans away from Kaito, poised and ready to fight. Unlike the others with their constantly changing bodies, this one seemed to be slowing, settling in on a preferred form. It had not decided yet, but it would soon enough.
The blood pooling in Grey's upturned palms had begun to drip down her arms, mingling with the sweat pervading her skin. It was not torrential, but it was enough that the audience could see that her hands were injured. Her robe clung to her skin along her upper arms and chest and back, where the sweat had soaked through the thick fabric. She kept singing to strengthen her beasts, tensing her muscles, her eyes locked shut. Her trust was in those shadows.