Hello, Guest! Register
Below Zero
Dusk Court Entertainer
Send Message


7 [Year 498 Summer]








Spanish Mustang X


15.2 hh







Last Visit:

02-25-2020, 02:22 AM


Signos: 40 (Donate)
Total Posts: 87 (Find All Posts)
Total Threads: 12 (Find All Threads)

A far off fin of cartilage breaks the water, and it's the first glimpse of dark blue that might be easily over looked among the waves. It's the first thing that one might typically note when it comes to this creature within her natural habitat - and beneath the ocean current is what she would consider her home. As more of that thick, stiff fin breaks the wake and foam caps, one notes that it's unlike anything ever seen before, a long dark blue crest that has three series of points upon it, curved more like the dorsal of a dolphin than a shark, but much smaller than both - except for the foremost fin. As more of the fin breaches the surface, another smaller sail is noted infront of the pointer first one, but at this point, it's the subtle curve of silver horns reflecting light and dripping with water that has one rubbing their eyes.

The figure moves closer, before slowly rising up from the water as hooves touch beach, carrying the equine-esque body from the depths and allowing the striking silhouette to be more noticeably observed, for indeed it is a striking one. The creature has a thicker face, nares flaring faintly as if taking a breath of air for the first time. As this action happens, small gills at the neck, just beneath the base of those silver curved horns, seem to close, water draining for them as they shut down in their ability to be used, the inner workings of this creature switching to the lungs that make breathing air a far easier task. But, back to the nares. Following the curve of a more rounded skull, the eyes are drawn to hers, although she has a fair few more than most. Two sets of eyes blink at different moments, proving to be independent from the other set. The two foremost are the largest, clearly primary eyes, and the slitted pupil that would be necessary for being deep beneath the waves is expanding into a much larger, and more oblong shape. A second set of eyes rest behind and just below those, the little sliver of a pupil also growing. As such action occurs, a vertical set of eyelids blink just over her eyes, drawing from the closed position they had been, and opening the eye fully. Those vertical eyelids only closing over her eyes when she goes beneath the waves to protect them while fully submerged but allowing her to see. The more traditional set of horizontal eye lids close in a more familiar manner, blinking a few times as she lets herself have a moment to grow accustom to being ashore again.

Beyond those odd dual sets of eyes are those silver horns, glistening in the sunlight as water continued to drip off them. They are long, curving along the natural curve of her skull, before continuing and starting to arch back up in a partial formation of a circle, the tip coming to a dull coil on the outside of her finned ears (unlike the start of the horns that clearly rest on the other side of her ears. The horns are distinctly made, similar to that of a ram, with the ridges along them - built for defense rather than any sort of attack as noted from the very rounded out end. But back to those ears. Her ears are long, fin like, and again a noticeable flap of skin can be seen shifting with a flick of her ears, unclogging where they had been closed off from water, able to hear beneath the waves but having no threat of water getting lodged with in them.

The eye comes back to the ridge noted first, a much darker blue then the more pale version of blue that half covers her body, but echoing in the dark blue dashing of her coat, the bottom most part of her hooves, the dotting along her . . . tail. We'll come back to the tail. The ridge is stiff, still standing the exact same and running from her forehead all the way down to middle of the . . . tail. The rest of her body seems to be more natural for a horse, long legs, long neck, thicker built chest. Elegant but not so much as to be mistaken for 'delicate'. You can't survive the waters if you're overly delicate. A thick layer of blubber beneath her pelt adds a bit of extra girth as well.

Now, back to that tail . . . for indeed, it's one of the more attention grabbing of her characteristics. Extending from her backside, continuing along the line of her spine, the tail is thick and powerful, resembling something similar to that of a dolphin, or some other aquatic mammal of the deep. The end flares out in the form of a large fluke, horizontally placed like that of a dolphin or whale.

Her base coat is clearly white, the sun drying it quickly and the color easily catching the light. But along her spine from the tip of her nares, to near the end of her tail is a more noticeable sky blue that skims along the sides of her barrel, her hips and shoulders. Spanning out from that color are the little squiggly lines of dark blue breaking up the rest of her white sides, her limbs, the tail, breaking up what would have been a very notable white form, and making it much more easily ignored beneath the blues of the ocean. Those same color patterns rest on her tail fin, the edges a pale blue, with squiggles breaking up even the fluke. Along the edge of her fin, settled in the pale blue are dots of dark blue, adding a touch more variety to her form. A perfect water camouflage, as from above you'd be seeing a lot of dark and pale blues that would mimic the depths of the ocean, where as from below her, looking up, the light colors and white would mimic the lighter waters of the surface.

But when lights go out, the most notable characteristic - in her opinion happens - as all of those little blue squiggles, the blue dots along her tail, her eyes, they all take on a rich glow of bioluminescence, a staple part of life when you live in some of the darker, greater depths. Those dark blue hairs having a special chemical structure of Luciferins existing with in the follicles of hair. This same chemical also exists in a special saline mixture that is made and stored in a small pocket just behind her eyes, so that when night comes, the saline mixture is blinked into a coating over that second, vertical set of eyelids (which offer protection against blinding herself from the glow they produce), and creating the distinct glow of her eyes.

As she moves further from the water, the final most noted part of her characteristics come from the steam that is now more noticeable escaping from her spine, and the ridge along her back. The same water vapors escape from the back of each hoof, and the water vapors trailing through the air in a natural manner, shifting and dancing as she moves, like an odd sort of lofty mane.

Maybe not your most 'normal' looking of horses, bright blue eyes still shine with a kindness and warmth that makes the odd appearance easy to overlook.

To Begin, let's put a name to the face, Below Zero, or Bel as she's had her name shorted to for so long (pronounced Bell), is the name of this aquatic equine. But there is much more to her than a mere name.

To help understand what makes this young female herself, one must understand that for the majority of her years, Bel has lived in a very cut-throat world where she must be faster than those dangerous beasties who wouldn't mind making a meal out of her - especially as where she came from, those beasties didn't have much other options but to hunt what must be found. Due to this early necessity to be fast, and unseen when she can, this mare is quick, quiet, and sly. Not quite 'spy' perhaps when you first view her, but definitely 'survivalist'.

Survivalist might be the perfect place to start actually. Thanks to her rougher time, she's grown to be rather self-reliant, and the sort who doesn't look to others for help. Not because she can't trust them to help, but more because she has always been expected to watch her own skin. Even when living within her aquatic-formed herd, there was a heavy emphasis on keep together, but watch your own back, as the best form of escape was to bolt in a thousand different directions. While she might not necessarily believe in asking for help, it doesn't mean she won't give her all to help others if the need presents (and it won't be TOO reckless to offer assistance). But she will do what ever she can to ensure her own survival, even if it means trekking it alone.

Now don't be assuming the worst of her already, she is a product of nature rather than nurture after all. And while emphasis during travel was to be prepared to split up and making it on your own, there was also a heavy emphasis of 'make it on your own and regroup.' The pod, herd, however you call it, was everything, and as such, it required for you to be a team player. Which comes her next big feature. As briefly mentioned before, Bel will give her all to help those when she can, and she's the sort to help lift the weight to make moving something easier, or to offer a shoulder to lean on when someone is feeling more drained. She's the sort to let a child climb atop her back during the swim to summer waters so the dam might get a rest from the extra weight. Bel will do just about anything in her power to help others when she can.

However, Bel also is a fearful creature thanks to those horrible moments of having to battle it out with the scariest creatures of the arctic south. Polar Bears upon snow-capped lands, shark infested waters and orca's waiting for the next slip up. Bel has grown to be a very weary creature who is constantly watching her surroundings and waiting for the next large creature with an appetite for meat to mosey into view. She's the sort who jumps at the littlest sounds (and thunder will get her running for cover yelling avalanche, even though she is no longer in the artic), and more then a lot paranoid. To her, trouble could be around any bend, and she didn't survive this long by letting it sneak up on her unawares.

Thankfully, she doesn't let that fear control every aspect of her life, as this mare is with out the doubt the sort who enjoys being able to just LIVE. While it can be undeniably scary surviving in the arctic with who knows what after your fin, you have to find joy in the little things to avoid falling into a mess of cynical paranoia that refuses to let you trust your own best friend. Bel found her joy in hearing and sharing stories. The first migration, and swimming with the dolphins. The story of the little fish who thought she could fly. Tales of caution, tales of laughter, tales of love. It didn't matter what they were, Bel absorbed them, and then shared them with the next generation - for indeed the pod was a family that shared tales and woes verbally.

These times were also the times where one could just rest and be happy with family, cuddling up to a loved one, or a close friend, sharing warmth in the dying light (or on those long days of no sunlight). To Bel, nothing can be more important than the pod, er herd; and the time spent as a group just talking, laughing and sharing was what makes up some of her most favorite memories. She's easily the sort who will search out company when she can, especially in times of peace, and is always willing to make friends no matter the situation. And it should certainly be noted that this mare isn't the sort to let the chance for a new friendship slide by either.

Of course even with her most friendliest of faces on, there is a part of Bel who is constantly waiting for the worst to strike, and as such, she tends to be a touch secretive in her time with others. She doesn't willingly talk about herself, or where she came from. She refuses to explain her odd features - which she things is perfectly normal, thank you very much. And she holds all of these key most pieces of herself deep inside, locked behind wall after wall. In her head, everyone around her is just a friend, perhaps a herd member - but none of them are a part of Her Pod.

One might also mention that despite being mostly equine, able to live on land just as freely as in water, and eating a herbivore diet with more grasses than seaweed, Bel does have the mind of a fish, with all the fishie phrases. Her most closest group of friends - should she ever make any that are worthy of it - that is Her Pod, those that she can rely on to do what needs to be do - whether it's splitting up to confuse an approaching shark, or finding one another after and ensuring everyone gets to safety. To her, nothing is more important than the Pod, and unfortunately - her Pod is still in the arctic. You'll also find her saying some more interesting things, like 'run like the current' rather than comparing one to the wind, or worrying about something 'nipping at your fins'. Words she grew up around and use to this day . . . unfortunately, that means she might be a bit confused when one uses more 'earth bound' turns of phrase.

I suppose it's safe to say Bel can be a touch set in her ways. Thankfully, set in her ways also means she's loyal to anyone she can give a name to, or recognize as a familiar face - especially if they are part of her herd. While her Pod would be like the closest group of friends to her, anyone with in the official herd would have her unwavering loyalty. And while she might leave someone treading high water to teach them to swim, she would never turn her back if they started to drown. She is the type to believe respect is freely given, not something that has to be learned, and affection should be as plentiful as the fish in the sea. She loves fearlessly, is steadfast, and isn't going to leave you floating in doldrums with out so much as a paddle.

While there are definitely good and bad to the young creature that is Bel, she tries to keep herself on the more positive side of the spectrum. She's loyal and kind, the sort to go out of her way to help others. But she's set in her ways, secretive, and easily frightened of every shadow in the wake. She can be very pessimistic, waiting for low tide to leave her beached, but she's also the sort who finds joy in the little things, eager to admire the starfish, or the view of the Great Barrier Reef. She's the type who doesn't accept help readily from others, and would rather try to make it on her own, but she wouldn't dream of letting another suffer if she could stop it. When it comes down to it, Bel is the sort to put the needs of the many above the needs of her own, and would take the krill from her mouth to feed another, even if it meant she would go with out for the night. She can be almost self-sabotaging in her efforts to make sure others don't suffer. Not because she sees herself as less, but because she can't not help a stranded horse.

Below Zero has a story all her own, and it starts in a place that some might see uninhabitable between the freezing temperatures, and the predators abound.

Below Zero was born during the summer, when the birthing typically took place for the Pod. The summer grounds were always warmer, basking in the some tropical location, and a perfect place for new foals to find their fins, and learn how to swim. That year the birthing was a small few, only five small forms joining the Pod, but each birth was to be celebrated as much of their life was so dangerous. Bel, as her mother started to call her, was the youngest of the five newest members of the Pod, and the first foal for her parents. Her mother was young herself, though her father was an experienced swimmer and near twice her dams age. Like all members of the Pod, her name took on a colder aspect of their life. Naming foals after the harsh world they typically lived in the other 80% of the time was a way of initiation. Polars were common - whether it be a Polar Star, a Polar Bear, or simply Polar. Icy was another name used frequently - different nouns following it to make it unique to the equine. But Bel's dam wanted something special, and so Below Zero was introduced to the stunned silence of the rest of the Pod, until they were told to call her Bel.

Now those first few months were fabulous. The air was warm, the water just as much so. Green grasses fed hungry tummies, and made dams milk rich. Birds sung in the air. Young Bel thought this was the life . . . however she wasn't prepared for they day they were to head south. One by one the Pod entered the water, foals encouraged to keep close to their dams, or attach themselves to their backs and holding on tight to help them stay close during rougher waters. At first that trip was smooth, the water still warm, and brightly colored fish swam by, but as the water started to get colder, Bel wasn't so sure anymore. That young of age, the water vapors, and heated steam she has now weren't properly developed, and she relied heavily on her parents steam to help warm the water around her, and she (like many of the other new foals) where quick to pick up a ride. But the water never got warmer.

In fact, ice began to drift by, and the water was cold enough that she wasn't allowed to leave the Pod until she started to produce her own heat to keep her warm - something that took a near 3 months to be able to do. Unfortunately, at some point a trip has to go south when in dangerous waters. And when the shark charged the Pod, Bel was not prepared for the Pod to break apart and BOLT. Her head was placed tight against her mother's shoulder, as her mother swam away, limbs kicking at the water both for balance and as a form of pedaling, even as her powerful tail pushed her forward even faster. Bel risked a glance behind them, seeing the shark go after another couple of horses, watching a few males turn back to drive the shark off of a dam and foal. A whispered word of 'Don't watch, Bel' carried through the water in the form of echos and clicks that her Pod had learned from dolphins so long ago, a separate language for beneath the waves that traveled a greater distance. Bel obediently looked forward, noticing that no one was around them. It was just them, in a vast, cold water.

It would be a near two hours before her Pod came back together. No one mentioned that a younger stallion was no longer there, but there was a noteable mourning to the group. It was Bel's first eye opener for just how dark of a world it was in the arctic. As the reached their destination, the Pod going on land, and to a nearby snow capped tundra, stories began to be shared to the young about the world they lived in, stories of caution, of danger. Stories of death to those who didn't listen. It was a rough and quick way to learn to stay close, but in a harsh world, you grew up quick. While the foals could play and run, it was in a small area, and never far from the majority of the herd. They learned to stay with in easy distance of their parents, so if anything of danger came upon them they could remain close to their dam as the Pod would split up again. Sometimes Bel noted they came back together quickly, other times she and her dam (and sometimes her sire) would be alone for a few days - or even a week before the Pod found one another again properly.

Bel grew up quickly, the foals where left to run so they could learn to be fast and escape dangerous. They had to learn how to swim just as quickly, working their tails in conjunction to their limbs. A slow foal was an easy meal for a Polar Bear, or Shark. She learned that when she was just over half a year (starting to produce her own warming water vapors to battle the arctic chill) - the Pod had bolted . . . and when they came back together later that day, a mare was crying . . . and her foal was gone. No one spoke of it, but she'd heard her mother comforting the mare that night. The next day the mare was playing strong . . . and Bel also learned that you didn't have much time to mourn when you had to constantly be on guard to survive.

The next few years passed like this. Traveling with the pod to warm, safe grounds once a year for birthing new foals, and spending the rest of the time running away from danger and surviving in the coldest depths of the ocean, relying on your Pod's glow and song to lead you home. Every year just enough foals were born to replace those that were lost. Every year she said good bye to aunts, uncles and friends. And then one year, shortly after she turned four, she had to say good bye to her mother, unable to mourn but for a single night with her silent and withdrawn father. The sharks had hunted together, the female heavy with pups, and her mother hadn't been fast enough. A small foal, her young sibling, tucked into her father's side had survived but was missing part of her tail fin. The Pod knew it'd be picked off soon, with a tail fin not able to properly push them through water.

Bel had had enough. She couldn't keep living like this. She couldn't keep running afraid, swimming blindly in fear, waiting for each moment to be her last . . . she couldn't survive like this. She couldn't. She couldn't. She couldn't. She left. It was in the middle of the night. She nuzzled her father good bye as he slept - the young sibling stolen by a predator a few weeks prior, and she slid into the water. And she headed north. Immediately, the solitude sunk in. Swimming with the Pod was one thing, and even when split up, you aimed to join back together . . . but this was the first time Bel had been alone in her four years of life. And in the darkness of the deep ocean waters, with no one near by, she could feel that loneliness settling heavily on her. She spurred herself faster.

She kept low to reefs and the ocean floor, using the boulders and obstacles as means to slow down predators that may have given her chase. She didn't know where she was going - all she knew is she had to get somewhere. Somewhere safer. Somewhere less dangerous. Somewhere . . . . where she wouldn't be living in fear. Her journeying took another year, and by the time she was mid way through her fifth year of life, there was an Island in the distance. Unsure of where else she might try going, she headed in that direction.

Her days and nights were spent swimming, determined to hit that dry land sooner rather than later. And even through swimming near non-stop, the trek took took a near three days before she dragged herself onto the beach, shuffling through the sand, gills closing off and lungs filling with air, and then she collapsed, eyes shutting and she slept. As she did so small other things began to take shape, the subtle shift as the small mentions of power grew in her head, a knowledge of the most bare basic of telekinesis drifting into the corner recesses of her mind. It wouldn't be for a few days later before she summoned a fruit just a little to far out of reach to her, and jumped away in fear. It would be a further few days before she understood she was the one who did it, let alone how she did it. But as she would grow to be more comfortable in this new land, so would she grow more comfortable in the new power, even if she yearned for a colder climate then the island had to show her. And she thanked her lucky stars that it appeared to be SAFE.

Of course, despite being a safe place, she should have known it wouldn't be a quiet place, and uninhabited place . . . She should have been expecting to find the others . . . the Courts with in the Island. Of course, the idea of joining a court wasn't meant to well to begin with. Bel had just left her own Pod behind for safety, and the thought of joining a Court felt like salt water on an Sea anemone sting. But as she spent more time in the place, a little more willing to find a more permanent home, she began to make her way more firmly towards the Dusk Court, and finally, settling into there and learning she had to pick a rank then to. While finding a court was hard enough, the idea of a rank was foreign to a mare who only know of family and survival. But as she pondered it, the time and time again of going back to the stories told as a child, legends passed down, tales of caution and of wonder, her mind was made up as an entertainer (besides, who would turn down a wandering story teller should she wish to wander beyond the Dusk Court's lands . . .). And so, her new life began . . . even if it wasn't the same as being with the pod.

Active & Parvus Magic

Passive Magic

Water Vapor/Steam Mane and Fetlocks - Water Vapors, and steam that come from her neck/back, and at her hooves which are typically used to help regulate body temperature in colder climates/water. Replaces Mane/Tails and Fetlock that can get weighed down with water. Vapors tend to be a cool misting now that she no longer lives in arctic temperatures, but the heat (or coolness) of the vapors shift with the temperature around her to help regulate her body temperature against colder (or hotter) climates.


Yukime - the Ice Carved Serpent

A creature to have escaped from Bel's home species planet, she's a bit of a treasure to have been located, especially untainted. With a body of varying hues of blue, and ice protrusions actually growing out of her head, and surrounding her throat like a collar - as well as two sets of eyes, it's not hard to imagine she's not . . . normal. As night sets, and her dark blue striping glow a deep navy hue at night. This is a creature who thrives on the coldness of the oceans, and she's built for the oceans as well, with only forelimbs but otherwise a long aquatic serpentine tail. Equipped with both gills and lungs, she can survive above and below the water with ease. And she's the perfect size for keeping Bel company - measuring about two and a half feet tall and six and a half feet long (and preferring to be perched on and around Bel's shoulder and neck.

Armor, Outfit, and Accessories

Agora Items & Awards

(View All Items)


Played by:

Dyzzie (PM Player)


HHEDyzzie-Main    //