04-06-2016, 02:26 PM
Eee, so excited they are finally duking it out! Here's her stats if you need them:
Talulah
16 hands
Hybrid (more Andalusian-looking though)
Mare
Grey
Immortal, Self-sustenance (doesn't eat, drink or sleep), Metal-aging (metal-skin), Ring of Power (can turn invisible)
<link href='https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Lato' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'><style> #talbackground{position:relative;z-index:1;width:500px; padding:20px; background:#fff url('http://www.designbolts.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/12/Beautiful-White-tiles-Seamless-Pattern.jpg'); box-shadow:0px 0px 15px #413f42;} #talcontainer{position:relative;z-index:2;width:500px; padding:2px; background:#404042;}#talcontainer p{margin:0;}#talcontainer img{position:relative;z-index:3;width:500px;} #talgradient{position:absolute;z-index:5;width:500px;height:100px;top:260px;background:-webkit-gradient(linear, left top, left bottom, color-stop(0%,rgba(255,255,255,0)), color-stop(1%,rgba(164,165,167,0)), color-stop(30%,rgba(64,64,66,0.43)), color-stop(69%,rgba(64,64,66,1)), color-stop(100%,rgba(64,64,66,1))); background: -webkit-linear-gradient(top, rgba(255,255,255,0) 0%,rgba(164,165,167,0) 1%,rgba(64,64,66,0.43) 30%,rgba(64,64,66,1) 69%,rgba(64,64,66,1) 100%); background: -o-linear-gradient(top, rgba(255,255,255,0) 0%,rgba(164,165,167,0) 1%,rgba(64,64,66,0.43) 30%,rgba(64,64,66,1) 69%,rgba(64,64,66,1) 100%); background: -ms-linear-gradient(top, rgba(255,255,255,0) 0%,rgba(164,165,167,0) 1%,rgba(64,64,66,0.43) 30%,rgba(64,64,66,1) 69%,rgba(64,64,66,1) 100%); background: linear-gradient(to bottom, rgba(255,255,255,0) 0%,rgba(164,165,167,0) 1%,rgba(64,64,66,0.43) 30%,rgba(64,64,66,1) 69%,rgba(64,64,66,1) 100%);filter:progid
XImageTransform.Microsoft.gradient(startColorstr='#00ffffff', endColorstr='#404042',GradientType=0 );}#talmessage{position:relative; z-index:10;text-align:justify; padding:0 20px 10px 20px; font:12px 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height:1.5; color:#171f19;}#talname{font:42px 'Lato', sans-serif; text-shadow:3px 3px 0px rgba(0,0,0,0.3); color:#a36d3e;letter-spacing:4px;text-align:center;}#talquote{color:#232228;font:14px 'Lato', sans-serif; margin-top:-20px;}</style><center><div id="talbackground"><div id="talcontainer"><img src="http://s5.favim.com/orig/140616/adventure-blonde-nature-retro-Favim.com-1842037.jpg"><div id="talgradient"></div><p id="talmessage">When she comes home, she doesn’t have the time to dwell on the fact that she’s been gone.
In this way, the challenge is a blessing in disguise. No sooner has Talulah taken a step into the Dale, the bugle call sounds. She has no choice but to answer it. She has no choice but to leave Ramiel’s golden gaze boring into her retreating form, his questions stalled on his tongue like a storm over cool air. She has to go before he realizes just how long it has been since his mother was there for him, before he can acknowledge the phantom embrace of her neck around his. <i>A blessing,</i> the steel-grey mare reminds herself as she crosses the challenging grounds, the dust rising and swirling around her legs. <i>One more hurdle before reconciliation can begin.</i>
Because there is far too much that needs fixing.
Her mind is still fractured by all of her losses, the pieces like frayed ropes tossed into turbulent waters. As much as Talulah tries to cling bits of memories or thoughts, her grasp is too soft to hold on. She can’t bring herself to examine what had set her adrift in the first place. If she remembers the angles of his face… If she dwells on the feeling of his burnt skin sliding against her metal skin… If the sharp end of his life cuts into her thoughts, she loses herself all over again.
Her hooves find the half-moon edge of the fighting arena and she halts. And by the time the dust settles again at her feet (a still day; neither rain nor cloud will impact their duel this time), her challenger is there. He looks to be of a comparable size, but that is where the similarities end. The stallion is a cascade of unnatural colors, mint green washing down into teal over his belly and legs. He has no mane to speak of and no tail that she can see. Talulah supposes he’s not terribly odd in this age of strange colors and accouterments, but he is rather striking. She’s more interested in what lies underneath his sea-palette coat. Surely, a man who looks like this one has been gifted by more than an otherworldly paintbrush.
The battle commences without fanfare; it is her turn first.
The steel-grey mare pushes her momentum through tensed muscles and propels herself toward him. It is not a far distance that exists between the two of them, but she eats it up quickly regardless. There is fuel to her charge that exists beyond duty. The Chamber has wronged her personally and very early in her life. She remembers all too well the feeling of their chains tightening around her ankles, the inky darkness of their slave pens. It might have been many generations ago now, but she has never forgotten. It is one frayed rope she has never let go of.
Assuming Lupei hasn’t remained stationary while she barreled towards him, Talulah attempts to keep him headlong against her, matching his movement in order to do so. If she is successful in this endeavor, she will be just ahead of him when the gold band on her right foreleg comes to life. She will be close enough to see the reflection of its slight golden glow in his eyes, close enough to watch his confusion or anger or ambivalence light up right alongside her talisman. Then she disappears.
She is counting on the element of surprise, because surely he will expect her to move once invisible. Surely, he will not think she’s wasted a chance to sneak around behind him and attack his exposed backside. But she does. Becoming invisible does not mean becoming soundless; the rhythmic thud of her hooves on the dirt would have alerted him to whichever side she veered around. Instead, she wastes no time throwing her upper body into the air, lifting her forelegs up into as balanced a rear as she can manage. But what goes up must come down. Talulah falls forward and aims her feet towards Lupei’s mint-colored chest. It is not the largest target she could have given herself, but it had had the highest probability for surprise and success. If her hooves drive down and against his chest, she imagines the injury to his pectorals will give him a hard time moving his shoulders or lifting his neck. If it is not a directly-centered hit, her blow will likely fall to either his right or left shoulder, impacting one side greater than the other. The possibility exists that she will not land a hit at all, but she doesn’t pause to consider it. There is no room for questioning in the heat of battle; there is only action.
Once her hooves hit the dirt again, she takes off around his left side. Only when she is a few paces away from him does she let herself become visible once more. She lingers just away from Lupei, sides fluttering with her quickened breath. One attack down, one to go. <i>One more hurdle,</i> the metal-mare reminds herself.
</p><p id="talname">t a l u l a h</p><p id="talquote">metal woman of the dale</p></div></div></center>
Talulah
16 hands
Hybrid (more Andalusian-looking though)
Mare
Grey
Immortal, Self-sustenance (doesn't eat, drink or sleep), Metal-aging (metal-skin), Ring of Power (can turn invisible)
<link href='https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Lato' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'><style> #talbackground{position:relative;z-index:1;width:500px; padding:20px; background:#fff url('http://www.designbolts.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/12/Beautiful-White-tiles-Seamless-Pattern.jpg'); box-shadow:0px 0px 15px #413f42;} #talcontainer{position:relative;z-index:2;width:500px; padding:2px; background:#404042;}#talcontainer p{margin:0;}#talcontainer img{position:relative;z-index:3;width:500px;} #talgradient{position:absolute;z-index:5;width:500px;height:100px;top:260px;background:-webkit-gradient(linear, left top, left bottom, color-stop(0%,rgba(255,255,255,0)), color-stop(1%,rgba(164,165,167,0)), color-stop(30%,rgba(64,64,66,0.43)), color-stop(69%,rgba(64,64,66,1)), color-stop(100%,rgba(64,64,66,1))); background: -webkit-linear-gradient(top, rgba(255,255,255,0) 0%,rgba(164,165,167,0) 1%,rgba(64,64,66,0.43) 30%,rgba(64,64,66,1) 69%,rgba(64,64,66,1) 100%); background: -o-linear-gradient(top, rgba(255,255,255,0) 0%,rgba(164,165,167,0) 1%,rgba(64,64,66,0.43) 30%,rgba(64,64,66,1) 69%,rgba(64,64,66,1) 100%); background: -ms-linear-gradient(top, rgba(255,255,255,0) 0%,rgba(164,165,167,0) 1%,rgba(64,64,66,0.43) 30%,rgba(64,64,66,1) 69%,rgba(64,64,66,1) 100%); background: linear-gradient(to bottom, rgba(255,255,255,0) 0%,rgba(164,165,167,0) 1%,rgba(64,64,66,0.43) 30%,rgba(64,64,66,1) 69%,rgba(64,64,66,1) 100%);filter:progid
XImageTransform.Microsoft.gradient(startColorstr='#00ffffff', endColorstr='#404042',GradientType=0 );}#talmessage{position:relative; z-index:10;text-align:justify; padding:0 20px 10px 20px; font:12px 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height:1.5; color:#171f19;}#talname{font:42px 'Lato', sans-serif; text-shadow:3px 3px 0px rgba(0,0,0,0.3); color:#a36d3e;letter-spacing:4px;text-align:center;}#talquote{color:#232228;font:14px 'Lato', sans-serif; margin-top:-20px;}</style><center><div id="talbackground"><div id="talcontainer"><img src="http://s5.favim.com/orig/140616/adventure-blonde-nature-retro-Favim.com-1842037.jpg"><div id="talgradient"></div><p id="talmessage">When she comes home, she doesn’t have the time to dwell on the fact that she’s been gone.In this way, the challenge is a blessing in disguise. No sooner has Talulah taken a step into the Dale, the bugle call sounds. She has no choice but to answer it. She has no choice but to leave Ramiel’s golden gaze boring into her retreating form, his questions stalled on his tongue like a storm over cool air. She has to go before he realizes just how long it has been since his mother was there for him, before he can acknowledge the phantom embrace of her neck around his. <i>A blessing,</i> the steel-grey mare reminds herself as she crosses the challenging grounds, the dust rising and swirling around her legs. <i>One more hurdle before reconciliation can begin.</i>
Because there is far too much that needs fixing.
Her mind is still fractured by all of her losses, the pieces like frayed ropes tossed into turbulent waters. As much as Talulah tries to cling bits of memories or thoughts, her grasp is too soft to hold on. She can’t bring herself to examine what had set her adrift in the first place. If she remembers the angles of his face… If she dwells on the feeling of his burnt skin sliding against her metal skin… If the sharp end of his life cuts into her thoughts, she loses herself all over again.
Her hooves find the half-moon edge of the fighting arena and she halts. And by the time the dust settles again at her feet (a still day; neither rain nor cloud will impact their duel this time), her challenger is there. He looks to be of a comparable size, but that is where the similarities end. The stallion is a cascade of unnatural colors, mint green washing down into teal over his belly and legs. He has no mane to speak of and no tail that she can see. Talulah supposes he’s not terribly odd in this age of strange colors and accouterments, but he is rather striking. She’s more interested in what lies underneath his sea-palette coat. Surely, a man who looks like this one has been gifted by more than an otherworldly paintbrush.
The battle commences without fanfare; it is her turn first.
The steel-grey mare pushes her momentum through tensed muscles and propels herself toward him. It is not a far distance that exists between the two of them, but she eats it up quickly regardless. There is fuel to her charge that exists beyond duty. The Chamber has wronged her personally and very early in her life. She remembers all too well the feeling of their chains tightening around her ankles, the inky darkness of their slave pens. It might have been many generations ago now, but she has never forgotten. It is one frayed rope she has never let go of.
Assuming Lupei hasn’t remained stationary while she barreled towards him, Talulah attempts to keep him headlong against her, matching his movement in order to do so. If she is successful in this endeavor, she will be just ahead of him when the gold band on her right foreleg comes to life. She will be close enough to see the reflection of its slight golden glow in his eyes, close enough to watch his confusion or anger or ambivalence light up right alongside her talisman. Then she disappears.
She is counting on the element of surprise, because surely he will expect her to move once invisible. Surely, he will not think she’s wasted a chance to sneak around behind him and attack his exposed backside. But she does. Becoming invisible does not mean becoming soundless; the rhythmic thud of her hooves on the dirt would have alerted him to whichever side she veered around. Instead, she wastes no time throwing her upper body into the air, lifting her forelegs up into as balanced a rear as she can manage. But what goes up must come down. Talulah falls forward and aims her feet towards Lupei’s mint-colored chest. It is not the largest target she could have given herself, but it had had the highest probability for surprise and success. If her hooves drive down and against his chest, she imagines the injury to his pectorals will give him a hard time moving his shoulders or lifting his neck. If it is not a directly-centered hit, her blow will likely fall to either his right or left shoulder, impacting one side greater than the other. The possibility exists that she will not land a hit at all, but she doesn’t pause to consider it. There is no room for questioning in the heat of battle; there is only action.
Once her hooves hit the dirt again, she takes off around his left side. Only when she is a few paces away from him does she let herself become visible once more. She lingers just away from Lupei, sides fluttering with her quickened breath. One attack down, one to go. <i>One more hurdle,</i> the metal-mare reminds herself.
</p><p id="talname">t a l u l a h</p><p id="talquote">metal woman of the dale</p></div></div></center>