#different era

50 years was quite a long time to miss and a lot to adjust, even for him. Amy had realized this despite his best efforts to hide it, and being Amy, decided to help him out, showing him new things when she could. Rouge had tried this too, but with Amy, with her usual enthusiasm and kindness everyting seems easier, bearable, enjoyable even when he was still struggling.

Shadamy Week Day 2: Different Era

@shadowxamyweek

For Day 2 of Shadamy Week 2026, I chose to go with the theme “Different Era”. My chosen era is the turn of the millennium, the late 1990s to early 2000s! During that era, Nu Metal was its peak, and so I dressed Shadow and Amy in outfits inspired by Jonathan Davis of Korn and Amy Lee of Evanescence. Fun fact - this was the era that I was a teenager in and I dressed basically like them both (ok I still do 😌) the timing of this is also fun - I saw Korn live in Montréal last September, and at the end of this month I’ll be seeing Evanescence live in Montréal as well! 🤘🏻

Here’s the outfit inspirations I used as references of Jonathan Davis of Korn and Amy Lee of Evanescence!

Bonus fun fact: these two performed together as part of Korn’s MTV Unplugged! https://youtu.be/8YQzhPytcIw?si=DmUgAfEptXVKfWuM

Over the long expanses of time, much had been done. An equal amount has not been as well. Playing games that Time has passed over, why not? Should it not be treated with decadence? Enjoy the moment now, for Time will steal it from you. There is little use in dwelling over times gone past, one cannot return. It is pointless. To swim against the streams of the now is to defy the current. In both senses of the word.

Perhaps this form had met thine own once. Perhaps not. Perhaps it was a past life, a past experience. Perhaps a memory remains. Perhaps it is lost. What remains eternal is the everlasting row of the ephemeral nature of all. So please, look forward. What is in thine sight? Do eyes really tell the truth when ears and hearts can speak otherwise? To dwell… is unadvised.

--

Icarus slammed open the door with full force, the heavy mahogany door rattling against the wall and its own silver hinges. A crumpled batch of documents in his hand, fist shaking angrily. His blood was exacerbating the emotions, he knew that, but it was too much for him to fight. He had too many questions and none of them were being answered. Just who the hell was this woman?

The woman in question, Dr. Rosalune, was still seated at her desk, despite the commotion. Eyes not even bothering to look up from the stack of papers she was working on. In fact, it seemed she didn’t even hear his ruckus, simply turning the page she was working on to her dedicated outgoing pile. Icarus gritted his teeth, tricky with his too sharp fangs poking out, but the words flung out in spite of his manners. “Just how old are you?!”

Her pen stopped for a moment, though Icarus was unsure if that was due to him or the actual sentence she was writing. Her pen continued on quickly after that, red painted lips barely parting when she scolded “It is quite rude to ask a Lady her age.”

He questioned the response. Was that a hint of amusement? “I’m serious. Tell me right now.”

“Quite bold to be making demands of me, all things considered.” She turned to a new page. “Though the newfound gumption might be pliable.”

“Answer me. I have these pages.” He slammed them on her desk with a loud clap. “I know you can read this!”

Now she capped her pen. “Making a mess and having a tantrum is a bit beyond you, I believe, Icarus.”  Only now did her eyes drift over the pages he provided. He wasn’t able to decipher what was going on in her mind. But she intentionally wasn’t answering him. “Go close the door.”

Oh no. He swallowed hard as the heat of his rage began to boil off. Clarity was now incoming. What the hell were you thinking? Icarus did as she commanded, returning to the door and shutting it with a much lighter hand, as if that alone would be enough to apologize.

“Good. Now sit down.” A finger gestured to the leather chair before her. He did so, keeping eyes glued to the floor. He couldn’t even stand to look at the papers he himself had brought in.  An uncomfortable pause filled the room, and he braced himself for that silence to shatter. When it did so, her icy tone wasn’t as frozen as he’d expected it to be. “I am not going to begin a conversation on the behavior you’ve just presented. I trust you won’t be tempted to find out the consequences of such buffoonery?”

A shiver ran up his spine, nearly chattering his teeth. “N-no ma’am.”

Dr. Rosalune nodded. “A wise decision.”  She squared away her remaining paperwork, putting it off to one side as she gathered the documents Icarus had brought with him. The ancient writing, her natural tongue was pressed to the page with her own red pen, the neat and precise handwriting she had perfected. Some eraser marks and faint remnants of pencil markings remained in the margins, clearly not her own. She stopped a chuckle from leaving her throat, instead raising a brow to her ward. “A good member of the Church sticking their nose in the past?”

“Like you’d say anything to report it.” He resisted the urge to cross his arms.

“Where did you find these?” The notes themselves were of little to worry about, no one else alive could read it, but the details contained within were of Icarus himself. His own file notes for her records. Things kept tight under lock and key.

“I found it. Seemed to have slipped out of its file.”

You have either increased your poker face, or you are lying. Either way, seems the stones are coming to you. She closed her eyes, contemplating a moment how to proceed. This is a long term commitment. Either way, the risk remains. “What does it mean to you?”

“Huh?” He wasn’t expecting that.

“Why do you care? You’ve written your own notes on this, so clearly it’s taken you.” Serena pursed her lips. “You were a history major, correct? Was this a point of your study?”

“I- yes. I wanted it to be at least. The Church obviously pushed back a great deal when my professor and I proposed it, but…” Icarus searched for the words. “It’s just a shame right? To leave history so unturned? To abandon what made us? I just wanted to know more, I-“ A twinge of hope glimmered in his eye. “If you have these, you must know something. You have to.”

True curiosity and passion. The blood hadn’t stolen them after all. “Icarus, you really aren’t aware of the depth of what you are asking.”

“So you do know it!” He nearly jumped out of his seat. He leaned forward, placing a hand on her desk to catch himself. “That language has been dead for thousands of years! Why-“

Serena raised a hand. “Enough, Icarus. I am well aware of the implications. But you would do well not to pry further into whatever notions you have concocted in that mind of yours.”

“You could solve decades of historic research-“

“And I have created many medical breakthroughs and treatments.” She countered gently. “Do you know how many hold my name? None. We are without time, despite being timeless. You should know these things require sources and recordation. I cannot give anything other than firsthand experience. Which raises its own issues, as I’m sure you’re aware.” He didn’t answer, again turning his attention to the floorboards. The Lady sighed, realizing quickly she wasn’t making any headway. “Well, I must thank you for returning this to me. That deserves… something of a reward.”

“Like you telling me more?” There was much that didn’t make sense to him. Her demeanor was always so alien, but at the same time precise and specific. As if she really did step out of some bygone past. And now knowing the truth of his newly contracted vampirism, and with these documents here, was it possible that she really was all these things? How would one survive that long? “Just who are you, doctor?”

Standing swiftly, she pushed her chair in, coming around to his left side. “Don’t get your hopes that high.” She grabbed a blank paper and two pens and handed one to him. “Right, well, much has changed, but in equivalence to sounds, this is the symbol for ‘th.’” Her hand swiftly drew the symbol. “Note the stroke of the pen, be careful not to cross the center here, lest you miswrite it.”

Icarus’s eyes watched eagerly, trying to soak up all the information. It truly was a spectacle, history coming to life before his eyes. At least one mystery could be solved. His eyes darted up to his mentor. But that left the door open for so many others.