Robeatics

[High-Casual]Bitten: The Rivalry.

Just my two cents, but if you wanted your characer to be treated like a vampire of equal measure to everyone else you may not have wanted to make him three months old. Maybe you could play it up as a flaw of his that he's a little bit cocky and doesn't yet understand the coven heirarchy?

Hell, maybe he could sneak out after the main attacking party is gone because he wants to prove himself to then that he can kill humans just as well as they. But as someone who was only human a very short time ago, how would he feel about killing them?

Dark Angels: The Argyos Heresy (Warhammer 40K)

I'll get started on my CS.

[High-Casual]Bitten: The Rivalry.

A few of his kin were already in their wolf forms, and he feared the absolute worst. Little Rylan calmed him, somewhat, and he turned to stare her down as she explained, quickly, what had transpired. "I...believe you, Kuzucuğum." The mighty animal straightened up, hackles lowering, and he turned his gaze over to the vampires. He looked down at the dead fledgling, gave it a sniff, and closed his eyes, shifting back into his human form and standing up. Normally, he could come back from his wolf form generally neatly, but with the speed with which he had transformed in the first place, his cheap white t-shirt was in tatters, torn too quickly to be seamlessly assimilated into his form like the rest of his clothing usually did. In the split second it took to shift, his upper body always changed first. He chuckled a little at what might have occurred had the pattern gone the other way, eyeing his shirt good-naturedly. He nodded to his pack, "My apologies for thinking any of the pack could be disloyal," and returned to the vampires.

"Nathaniel. I am glad to see you protecting our own. I will do the same." He knit his brows together. Were the coven so distant of a family that they would kill their own without a second thought? Would strike out against someone their mother has called friend? Riley was no mother, however, and they not her children. They did not act like they had such ties, symbolically or literally. Mehmet had, of course, biologically fathered a few members of the pack, and they were some of his most loyal members. But that had been more out of business as the alpha than a desire to raise children with someone. His pack was dwindling when he'd first taken over as leader, and it was his duty to make it strong again. A woman of the elder circle had been open to it, but Mehmet had to request that she never tell her children who their father was, for fear of them expecting, and likely receiving, favoritism. But that was years ago. He crossed his arms at Riley and turned to his pack. "Some of us will be fighting very soon. I will choose, and the others must stay back. Horatia, you will stay here to keep the pack safe while I take Rylan, Michael, Andre, Francisca and Kate to go with me." He stared Rylan in the eye. "You stay at my side. You, others, come with the four vampires to hide in the lounging glade for an ambush. You will hear humans approaching, cowering in the bowl of rock. Strike when you hear my howl."

Determined to keep his pack at its utmost safest, he swept his gaze to lock onto Riley, before the trigger-happy whelp from before was kneeling and proclaiming his fitness for combat. Mehmet listened to his words and growled deeply. "You are a newborn to me, and nearly more human than Immortal. How important you must believe you are to claim your place as so worthy a warrior." The ruined fabric of his shirt strained against the intimidating span of his chest as he breathed in and out slowly. "Ill will or nigh, I demand only the strongest to fight. A great warrior may hate werewolves, but only when the truce is finished. A great warrior is no greater than a suicidal infant when he strikes against us when he needs our help." He waved a hand at him. "Aptal çocuk."

Finally, he turned his attention to the more pressing matter of speaking with Riley. "Nothing to add, except to watch their hands, even when captured. They are tricky and hide many weapons." He extended his arm, and displayed a long, arching scar along his bicep. The thin wound there was mangled, as if the cut were made during a great, thrashing struggle. "A human hid a tiny silver blade in a ring. Barely an inch was all it took to do this."

[High-Casual]Bitten: The Rivalry.

I feel like Mehmet and Riley will try to keep things together as much as possible, considering how much of a threat they both know the Cacciatori are.

[High-Casual]Bitten: The Rivalry.

The knock threw him off, and he turned to watch the door. Riley was downstairs now, and answered it with an incredible lack of fanfare, despite the stench of human that seeped out and made his nose scrunch bitterly. He pressed a hand to Rylan's shoulder, urging her closer to a few more physically powerful werewolves. "Stay together, all of you. Kuzucuğum, keep the pack alert. I want you to use your senses." He nodded to Rylan briefly to check she understood, further emphasizing his trust in her responsibility to lead this little group for the moment. Alright, it seemed that Riley had yet to be staked. She closed the door, Mehmet sensed her panic, and came quickly at her call, slipping into the kitchen behind her. He closed the door behind himself, placed two broad hands on the counter Riley had tossed the flyer atop, and tilted his head, reading it. Muttering a few curses in his mother tongue while Riley proclaimed her fears --something he'd never expect a vampire to do-- he shook his head and jabbed a finger at the flyer. "We are not going. We fight them, simple."

The wind outside howled in his ears like the wind of his prison a century ago. He shuddered and, with a ragged, hurried growl, the growl of a cornered animal, approached the window without pulling back the curtain. His heart hammered in his chest, every muscle pulsing and urging him to fight something. "I have a scout. She is quiet, not fast, not strong, but good for tracking, and closely connected with the pack. She will come with me and herd the humans, if they are here, into a small glade near us. It is surrounded by rock, a good ambushing spot, hard to climb out of for humans. You hide there with four of the coven and the pack each, kill them all."

He spat into the sink and turned to face her, brown eyes flashing, briefly, golden. "I will pick who of the pack goes to ambush. You must choose well, only the fighters. The humans are weak, but know much of how to kill us." Contemplative of his plan, he mulled it over and added, "Perhaps leave a few alive, to question them. They would not send their entire force stationed here. There must be more."

Riley looked up at Mehmet as he began to speak. 'Fight?' She thought while leaning against the couch, her arms folded over her chest. She was scared for herself, she was scared of her coven members numbers decreasing and losing another dear friend. She lowered her head then looked back up at him as he growled. Riley eyed him as he came her way but he was going to the window beside her. "I have my second in command and Nathaniel. That's about it." She sighed while walking closer to him and looking at him directly in the eyes. "So, we're sneaking out?" She asked him while breaking the eye contact and walking towards the kitchen door.

"I am getting sick and tired of running, Mehmet. I really am." She said while looking at him. "But immortals gotta do what immortals gotta do." She couldn't help but laugh at what she had just said. "But where are we going to go?" She asked him but then thought about it. "I guess we could to our old coven home, if it's still there but it's also on the other side of the town." Another sigh escaped her lips then ran her hands through her blonde locks of hair again. "Maybe I can compel a few humans to drive us there and get answers from them that way." She shrugged her shoulders at her suggestion then looked at Mehmet to get his opinion.

His face was hard, jaw muscles clenching and unclenching as he very briefly mulled over Riley's suggestion. "No. If we let the coven and the pack know how frightened we are of the Cacciatori, then they will be frightened as well. No running. We must fight." He turned and stared her straight in the eye, standing uncomfortably close to a vampire, looking in their eye longer than he ever had before without killing them. Their history was a long, spiteful, bloody one. She was meant to be his enemy, yet here they were, working together to survive, eating together, sleeping alongside each other. Well, perhaps not sleeping. He wasn't entirely sure if vampires actually needed sleep.

He realized he was still staring at her, very slightly doubled over her in an intensely instinctive stance, and straightened up, sighing. "If the Cacciatori believe they win over us tonight, they will win over us forever." He glanced out the window and looked back at her. "Perhaps we should move to your little coven home after we kill and capture these humans. We throw off the scent that way." His broken English, embarassingly, came out slightly then, and he went to looking at the window again, leaning against the counter and crossing his vast arms as he waited for an answer.

Riley loved the way Mehmet talked when it came to battle. She wanted to step out of the way and just let him handle everything since this was his plan. She was really tired of running every time humans have found them but this time, she was going to fight and protect her coven. Her eyes looked at him when he talked as she couldn't help but nod her head. "Okay. You guys fight and I'll compel a few humans to drive us the other coven and give us some answers. Sounds good?" She waited for his approval, or wanted to hear what he had to say before continuing on.

He nodded thoughtfuly and scratched at his stubble. A beard was beginning to grow there again, what with him not having enough free time to shave as he typically did. "Wait for the fight to be over and for us to have the captured humans. Drive them to this coven and use whatever you can to make them talk." He rose up and stretched, now readying himself for the first real fight since the vampires and werewolves joined together. "The wolves with you will know when it is time to come to the glade. Follow their tracks and remain quiet." He scowls. "And tell that foolish little fledgling with the gun to get rid of it. The young ones are easily frightened." He smelled the pungent odor of spilled vampiric blood in the room adjacent, and, instantly horrified that a werewolf has killed a vampire, turned and burst into the main room in the form of the beast. Even on all fours, the clay-colored wolf's shoulder reached the ribcages of the shorter members of the congregation. Mehmet snarled and, seeing nothing but a dead vampire on the floor, advanced upon his pack, fearing the murderer one of them. He barked and a telepathic roar ripped through their ears like the bullet from a gun. "WHO DID THIS!"

[High-Casual]Bitten: The Rivalry.

Collab coming up shortly, everyone.

[High-Casual]Bitten: The Rivalry.

Let's see if iSuspect will hold off on the collab post long enough for you to post. You can still start on Dante responding and maybe be interrupted by whatever happens, like if Mehmet and Riley burst out of the kitchen and give an announcement? It's up to them.

Dark Angels: The Argyos Heresy (Warhammer 40K)

Never RPed any Warhammer 40K, looks pretty interesting. Hopefully this is still alive.

[High-Casual]Bitten: The Rivalry.

Mehmet might not be happy to see a vampire armed to the teeth with silver when he leaves the kitchen, but he'd probably understand the fear, so I'll try not to sidetrack with the weaponry thing much.

[High-Casual]Bitten: The Rivalry.

Everything was happening all at once, and had been for nearly two days now. Too many scents, too different, neither human nor lycan, alien yet so familiar, dangerous. It set Mehmet on edge, teetering in the wind, prepared to strike with everything he had at the first sign of danger. And he did, upon facing the coven leader woman and sensing in his bones her cunning, her years of experience likely murdering his kinsmen. The scent threw him off, a vampire standing so close to a werewolf, so close to his pack, that can anyone really blame him that he would strike out in instinctive defense? Her little pet, that Nathaniel man, had taken the brunt of his strikes, and given him a few of his own. Right away Mehmet had stopped, snarling regardless, muscles stinging where Nathaniel had struck. A formidable underling, a man he should not come to blows with lightly. But also a man he will destroy if they should ever fight again.

The situation had been smoothened over, at least, with a few words, barks, and flurry of scents, though a marked segregation of the vampires and werewolves sprung up, physically and socially. He ignored it. That was safer, for the moment. He climbed the steps to wherever Riley lurked, pressing past vampires whom begrudgingly pushed their backs against the wall to get out of his way. Filling out the doorway, he stared at Riley on her bed, and in a low, moderate accent said, "The Cacciatori are the real threat. If we are to work together, we must not fight amongst each other. I apologize for not following our oath of alliance." He bowed his head once, even if her response was unyielding. He understood her indignance, and found a startling amount of himself in it. Of course she would be furious. He left after a few more words, now understanding the flow of things, of authority. He would not be under this woman.

He found the stairs and entered the room in which both groups were congregated, muttering and growling, whispers that hissed gratingly in his ears. Riley arrived, spoke, and he did his best to quietly urge his pack into listening. Many eyes turned to him when she was finished, and above their heads he called out, "Listen to your betters, pups! We are still a pack. I do not expect you to treat these vampires as our own, but keep watch over them and they shall keep watch over us." His eyes shone through the dimness, a sea of mahogany set under thick brows, wide nose flaring with the amalgam of scents. His words dripped with immense inflexibility, a command. "Stay away from the humans. They are weak, but cry out like rabbits when struck, to call out the lions. If any of you are gone for longer than a day without prompting, coven or pack, I will search for you. Trust your senses, and trust no human." His mind swam with worry at the idea of any more of his pack being lost. A hole remained in his heart for the ones he failed to protect. Losing his pack would kill him, undoubtedly, kill his soul, his resolve, his will. That cannot happen.

A scent outside. His head darted towards its source, breathing in sharply, eyes locking on Riley. Before he could say anything, a scout had come back, sharing no news, yet that lack of information piqued his worry even more harshly. Rumors ran wild, and the noise was deafening to him. He lifted his head and barked, veins popping in his neck as he did so, louder than anything else in the room, echoing into the newfound silence. It jarred the vampires and quieted the werewolves, enough to make them both shut up. His beta, Keller, turned to him from where she was at his side. "Who was expecting them?"

He sighed and waved his hand. "I am sorry, Keller. You will know soon, I promise." By now things were quieting down and Riley went upstairs. He watched Keller and Rylan converge to discuss something, turned to follow Riley upstairs, and found her already gone, the scent trail followed by Nathaniel's. He growled quietly and returned to his pack, given up on speaking with the coven leader just yet. It seemed 'soon' was coming sooner than he'd liked. "I am loathe to interrupt you, Rylan, but I must." He shifted irritably, old scars coming to the surface and sending pinpricks along his back. "The Cacciatori are waiting for us. They are the humans I speak of when I tell you of my capture." His tone was filled with held-back fury, wanting nothing more than to howl and speed all the way over to wherever the Cacciatori were hiding and tear them apart. He skimmed over what Rylan had written and sighed. "I will lead a hunt later, but we have more pressing matters than your stomach." His words were stern, scolding. He gave them a softer edge, however, just a little forgiving. He didn't expect his pack to know exactly what was happening. Many of them had only heard of the Cacciatori in legends, or as some far-off monster from his sickening tales best forgotten.