[h1][color=royalblue]Baldwin[/color][/h1]
[hr]
[indent][b][i]November 19, 1:39 AM
Northeastern proximity[/i][/b][/indent]
Baldwin's body seemed to move on its own as he snapped and sliced, stabbed and gored every Fifty-Eighter in his path. His bone-white body becoming covered with more and more red to show his efforts. There were a small group of humans that had occupied Baldwin's attentions for the time being. Armed with rifles, nothing like the torches and pitchforks of old, he felt as the projectiles pierced his form with white-hot pain assailing him as he neared the group. He gunfire was beginning to put a damper on his ability to move and fight, if he didn't end this conflict now, he would soon regret it.

He sunk his spear-like appendages into the snow with increasing speed, shifting from a slow advance into a full charge. The screams sounded out as they always did as he drove his snout into one man's chest, pushing him into the ground, deeper into the snow. He squirmed and scrambled, bashing upon the hard hide of Baldwin's snout in an attempt to escape. That is until Baldwin ground into his torso, pushing his face into the man with a chewing motion until he breached through him and emerged into the snow again. With a great heave, Baldwin lifted his great reptilian head into the sky, uttering a growl as he felt the blood running down toward his eyes and along his neck in rivulets. With a great flex of his jaw, Baldwin's mouth opened to let loose a great roar and the Fifty-Eighter split cleanly in two with a final scream.

The others stepped back, attempting to make a getaway, but with a leap Baldwin latched onto one of the fleeing men and pushed him to the ground before squeezing with his spider-like limbs. What was once a man was now a red stain in the snow as he exploded from the pressure of the great reptile-spider's vise grip. Another screamed as Baldwin's spine-like tail pierced his lung and thrashed him into one of his compatriots. Baldwin took advantage of their fallen position and drove a leg through the both of them, skewering them like a shishkebab. Only one trooper was left, cowering in the snow.

Baldwin lifted himself from the gore before looking over to the last survivor, clicking and mewling as he approached slow. The smell of fear was heavy upon this one, as it whimpered and scrambled back. It smelled of dirt, alcohol and smoke. It was a woman. He paused for a moment, massive form looming over her for a moment as she mumbled incoherently. It have him pause, but only for a moment.

[color=a36209]"Please! Just let me g-"[/color]

He snapped down on her head, jaw unhinging to encompass her head and a significant portion of her torso with a multitude of sickening crunches. Like a dog with its toy, he shook her until she ceased her squirming and finally spat her out into the snow. His breathing was heavy and laboured from the long bout of activity. It had been a long time since he had been in any sort of physical dispute, so his physical fitness, while significantly more than the standard human, was questionable compared to his younger years. 

[color=royalblue]'Was the conflict over now?'[/color] He thought as he looked around at the path of red he had carved from the walls to this point.

[hr]
[h1][color=plum]Jacqueline Durant[/color][/h1]
[hr]
[indent][b][i]November 19, 1:34 AM
West Commons[/i][/b][/indent]
The gurgling and sloshing was right on top of her now and the presence of the wandering slime creature was almost stifling to act witness to. It found her behind the crates and she cowered, curling up into a ball so tight she feared she might have compressed herself out of existence. Her eyes screwed up tightly, threatening to seal shut forever. Then the voice came, and from the dark of her hood she stared out. No malevolent creature could hold such a voice so soft, so concerned. She uncurled from her fetal position and rose ever so slightly to look over the crates at her pursuer. She stank of dirt and blood and damp as she peered over her own bloodied fingers and was met with a slime-covered skull. She screamed rather loud. A warbling, reverberating sound that shook her chest and made her head ring. It was a short moment before she found herself out of breath and listening to the... female slime, talking as if she hadn't just alerted half of the city to her presence.

This creature, one of the horrors that mother had told her so many stories of, was showing what seemed like legitimate concern for her. Mother always warned of the ways of strangers, but she only ever erred caution when it came to the matters of men. Jacqueline looked down at her hands, pale skin almost covered with red and brown. The pain in her hip barked at her, as she tried to adjust her position and face the slime properly.

[color=plum]"I... I am hurt."[/color]

A very astute analysis on her part, as her words came slower and slower, brain struggling to find some avenue to take that would get her to safety. She fumbled and dropped her rosary, and scrabbled for it as an idea lit up in her mind. Luminous eyes stared out from the shade of her hood as she inquired to the slime, in reply to her offer for help, after all she hadn't been eaten yet so how terribly evil could this thing be?

[color=plum]"Is there a place that- I mean is there a certain place that brothers and sisters of the cloth are held? Those of the faith? I would like to go there."[/color]

She held out her rosary with a blackened hand. A small holy symbol dangled from the end of the chain.

[color=plum]"A place where this symbol holds sway. I wish to go there."[/color]

[@t2wave]