ooc: Again, there are no replies to this yet... this is NOT the end of team 1 ... obviously survivors will appear in other threads. This is the results of the first set of chops.
Team Alpha

Cicero stands like a statue looming over the battlefield though his height is no greater than those he leads or the men on the field. To his credit he is unshaken by the shadows wielded by the archon or the cracking of the earth though the same can’t be said of his erstwhile companions.

The sight of it all is terrifying and magnificent to behold. “Steady.” The Prince says in a calm tone trying to reassure his men. As the Justicar is taken in hand and tossed aside, someone exclaims, “Oh shit.”

Isabella (Known by her friends as Maddalena) focuses on juggling the voices in her head… but for once it’s not just her own. It’s been a while since she had operated in such a capacity and so the patterns and voices create a new kind of melody that she finds herself swaying to. “All teams are in position and ready, My Prince.”

“Now.” Cicero says across the telepathic web and the teams move forward onto the field knowing it will be a short time before they are in range to do any damage and by then, their strength and numbers will be needed.

James Brown can’t help but feel the twisting knot in his stomach growing with each step, the blood beading on his forehead. Looking to Sal beside him he gives a meek smile, it seems he is trying to say ‘we will be fine’ but it comes across more as ‘goodbye.’

As they reach the edges of the melee a sound breaks the team’s silence. Cicero turns to look at Sal and in the same instant that he does, a hole opens in the center of Salvatore’s skull – between his eyes. Gray matter splatters over Cicero’s face and chest as the younger kindred falls to the ground at the Prince’s feet … presumably dead.

A terrible screeching noise echoes across the telepathic web threatening to melt Maddie’s mind and distracting the team leaders who are linked into it … in that same instant, the Seneschal feels the mind of the Prince violently ripped from her control as if he had suddenly been killed in one fell swoop. The backlash is controlled and the web maintained by the Malkavian but only barely.

Cicero wheels around on Simon as he’s preparing for the unseen assault to come… sadly, once it does, it comes from the last place he’d ever look for it. Cicero moves in a blur of speed, none nearby have even the mind to comprehend the speed he moves with but Simon tries to keep pace.

“RUN!” Simon screams at the Tremere. James hesitates a moment but only a moment before he decides he can not possibly hope to keep up with the elder Brujah’s speed or strength. He breaks into a run, one last glance as behind him Simon’s head explodes messily and his form collapses in a heap.

Cicero licks his clanmate’s blood from his lips… his eyes quivering he takes a step forward, his teeth gritting so hard they could be heard cracking if anyone was close enough for such a thing. The man trapped inside his own body can only fight the thing that puppeteers him for so long before his legs once again move of their own volition and the blood in his bloody stirs him to run after the fleeing men.

Just as he’s about to grab the Tremere a noise is heard above him, Cicero’s mind… the part not ruling his body right now… is almost thankful to be stopped, even though he knows what his friend must be ready to do. He says a silent goodbye to Apollo… he wonders distantly at his ward’s well being… and is lifted into the air by the stony form of what might be taken for a demon if one were not aware of such creatures.

But pain does not come and Cicero screams in his own mind as the Gargoyle drops him to the ground to start his killing again. Why… why hadn’t his friend killed him? Why hadn’t death come! The impact of the earth startled his mind, for a moment he thought he might actually regain control of his senses… the thing was not unbeatable! Joy surged through the Prince but was quickly squashed as once again he saw the running Tremere.

In a blur Cicero began to move again – it had been a very long time since he’d felt so used, so helpless… so weak. By the Gods, he couldn’t stop himself and it seemed that no one else cared to try.