⛦☾    Amber Darkbloom    ☽⛦

❝ i remember that day... i sang in somber, knowing my fate;           you dragged me to the woods, hands out... taste the soil fill up my mouth... keep you alive in me under the ground.the crow in my heart, you are the hands that cover up the tracks we left ... you are catching all of the orbs we met... *glowing all of the darkness looks alive here... burning me up burning me up when you aren't heredrag me into the woods❝followed by a soft prayer
as above, so below, dismantled piece by peace, whats left will not decease. as within, so without the seasons bring relief. be consumed, return to the soil, all is as it should be.

▍ ❝   the dreamweaver.
as a young girl, Amber had always known something was peculiar about how she was able to calm her sisters nightmares for seemingly just maneuvering her aether . she has an innate talent for dreamweaving . she will aetherically manipulate ones sub-conscious to subdue any night terror or nightmare one might have. or... she can always give instead of take, if that is an individuals desire.▍ ❝   the oracle.
Amber is a practicing Esoteric and Astrologian. She is able to seek guidance from spirits beyond this realm and relay messages to others thru either psychic readings, tarot cards, or occult divination. She always has her tarot deck on her as well. She can sense the tension in ones very aether if they are struggling with something, such is the way of an empath. there is no limit to the kind of person she will commune in the stars with. it is suggested that if one need guidance, they often only have to look upwards

▍ ❝   the occultist.
Amber's practices and studies are FAR from the realm of even what The Lambs of Dalamud attempt. She seeks to fully understand the supernatural and discover ancient magics within this realm even that are even older than the star itself. ❝  To unravel the mysteries of the stars, one oft' must go beyond what even their soul can fathom.❝  ▍ ❝   the torquetum.
The instrument of choice for Amber. from a young age, astrolabes, planispheres, and orrerys were all amber chose instead of weapons like her sister. here-in lies what Amber uses to weave the very aetheric dust around, her Torquetum. it is made out of an obsidian looking substance that is embellished with roses in the center. If one were to look close enough, they might even see that on occasion that the center of any rose on her Torquetum that an eye would open and look around before closing again. it would be wise to not stare into it's gaze for a prolonged time .

GENERAL .
•   name   :   amber darkbloom
•   alias   :   fawn
•   gender   :   she / her
•   orientation   :   pansexual
•   species   :   miqo'te
•   occupation   :   astrologian
•   voice claim(s)   :  Misty from Cyberpunk 2077 with a cajun creole accentPHYSICAL .
•   eyes   :   amber
•   hair   :    black and purple
•   height   :   6'4"
•   skin   :   a pale moon white
•   clothing   :   often witchy and esoteric inspiredMENTAL .
•   alignment   :   chaotic good
•   traits   :   empathetic, patient, loving
•   likes   :   open minds, free spirits
•   dislikes   :   religion

❝ Amber would oft' say prayers, not to the twelve, but to spirits beyond even what the twelve themselves have control over...In the hush of twilight's breath, arrows whisper through the pines, where shadows stretch, and night is born, in the cradle of ancient oaks and thorn Drag me into the woods you said, where the soils secrets softly tread, where the wild heart beats in a rhythm deep, in the silence where the lost ones sleep.The dark stone, cold and still, holds the echoes of a distant thrill, memories carves in endless night, beneath the pale unyeilding light. we danced with ghosts in the forests embrace, in a world where time could not erase, the stories etched in bark and bone, of souls entwined, yet still alone. in the shadows of arrows, we find our way, through the mist and moss, where the spirits sway, a journey bound by whispered dreams,in the day of night, where nothing is as it seems, let these words ring true, for the stars will will surely reap what i have sewn...

as above, so below, may the forest hear my sighs, with branches reaching for distant skies, my roots entwined in secrets deep, or where my shadow lingers while spirits sleep. drag me into the woods, where time stands still, in the cradle of night, where echoes thrill. Through all the moss and stone, trace my path to the silence where the ancient laugh.The dark stone rests in the forests heart, my monument to where worlds may be torn apart. in the surface and soil cold, let my words be warm, protect lives gone, and quiet my sisters storm, whilst arrows fly thru the whispered pines, guiding me past forgotten sights, allow me a dance of fate in the twighlights glow, where the winds of our needed change soltly blow. as the stars align in this velvet night, please Pandora, let my sister and I find out way by the moons pale light. let us embrace the soils sweet doubt, as within, so without

▍ ❝   I.
___*** the beginning:      Juturna walks with the grace of a spring storm and the hush of a drowning forest. She is a vision carved from soft, feral dreams... her pastel blue hair falling in misty waves around curling horns of golden filigree, each twist glinting faintly under even the dimmest light. Her skin carries the faint shimmer of wet leaves kissed by morning, and her eyes glow with a yellow so deep it could pull you under. She is beauty born not of stillness, but of growth, decay, rebirth... and the endless breath of the wild world

▍ ❝   II.
___*** Together,
Amber and Juturna are not mere mage and spirit—they are a covenant. Where Amber channels the raw, snapping energy of the bayous, Juturna tempers it with the old patience of growing roots and rivers that carve stone to sand. Juturna is her steadying hand, the whisper at her ear when the aether swells too fierce; she pulls Amber back from the brink, teaches her to listen when her blood demands to burn. Yet when the moment calls for ferocity, Juturna is the first to sing for it—wreathing Amber’s steps in thorn and vine, blessing her strikes with the slow, inexorable hunger of nature reclaiming what was stolen.

▍ ❝   III.
___*** the fawn and the fae: In battle, they move as one breath, one storm. Juturna weaves unseen, her pastel hair flowing like a banner, her horns catching glints of light as she dances between worlds. When Amber calls, Juturna answers—not with chains or commands, but with the fierce devotion of an ancient sister, a twin flame split by time. Her laughter is rare, soft as wind through cypress, but when it comes, it is a blessing. She is not Amber’s servant, nor her shadow; she is her reflection, her refuge, and her reckoning all at once.