#september of the calendar council

[thedeafprophet]

Wanted to contribute to the redraw meme so picked two of my faves i thought would be funny lmao

^^ this is my belief for the May and September dynamic

#trying to shove through my art block with meme #fallen london #my art #september of the calendar council #the manager of the royal bethlehem

[im-ej-arts]

@thedeafprophet mentioned September having a dog, so I had to draw him and Daisy, his old lady baby wiener dog!

#my art #my doodles #fallen london #fl #September #september of the calendar council #traditional art

[fallenlondonnpcfight]

Liberation of Night 2.0

#fallen london #fallen london npc fight #polls #round two #the dawn machine #september of the calendar council

[jane-d-ankh-veos]

Elaborating some more on this and that:

As I see it: Archie is nice, innocuous and idealistic to the point of naivety, while May kind of assumes the classic role of a devious alluring mysterious stranger who tempts this ingénue with a forbidden fruit of knowledge (of Archie's true past) and dangerous revolutionary schemes, eventually leading him into the Calendar Council. (Bonus points for May being a supernatural ancient immortal aristocrat full of torment and passions and villainous inclinations, fitting this gothic trope perfectly...)

(...and Harjit, of course, completes the triangle as a righteous hero who wants to protect his true love from this suspicious dark influence.)

Reimagining of archetypal scenarios is such a delight. Especially with gender inversions. Especially when temptation is something other than romance. And when "corruption" turns out to be beneficial guidance (yet still being deliciously perilous and illicit).

Also last year I've written a whole fic about them and this dynamic, although haven't translated it into english yet. But... hmm... maybe I should, if at least someone would be interested...

#fallen london #mask of the rose #failbetter games #the calendar council #calendar council #september of the calendar council #archie reid #archibald reid #motr #manager of the royal bethlehem hotel

[freefromlightandlaw]

September: Why is March making that funny noise?

February: He's English, September. That's the way they talk.

#september of the calendar council #february of the calendar council #the counsel of the calendar #fallen london #incorrect fallen london quotes #source: derry girls #he speaks

[the-perspicacious-mercenary]

Unfortunately for everyone, my Railway didn't reach Balmoral until after the Feast of the Rose.

So I have to wait a whole year to get September as a companion.

Truly devastating.

#fallen london #september of the calendar council #he is special and I love him okay

[anomalouscorvid]

scribbling out some thoughts on... bird centaurs.. birdtaurs? using a couple of months of the council

#i should've included september as some kind of songbird.... but i couldn't decide which one #fallen london #failbetter games #calendar council #art #digital art #drawing #digital drawing

[incorrectfallenlondonquotes]

September: You called a secret meeting? January: Yes. Close the door. September: (Closes the door) January, from inside: September. Get in here. And *then* close the door.

#september #january #the calendar council #fallen london

[sunless-smash-or-pass]

#human characters

[justdiptych]

I always thought September of the Calendar Council couldn't possibly be Archie Reid from Mask of the Rose. 'There can be more than one Scottish man in the world!', I thought. Then it occurred to me to perform a little experiment.

Yeah, that's the same dude.

#fallen london #mask of the rose #vidyo games #gif

[house-of-mirrors]

I posted the fic about the Bazaar as a modern publishing company. Now I need to write about modern AU calendar council. Specifically thinking about cyberpunk dystopia (not necessarily the neon future!)

January maintains a free online library full of texts and articles, fighting against the paywall culture of academia and censorship. Also a skilled hacker targeting energy systems to draw attention to infrastructure vulnerabilities caused by the failings of neoliberalism.

February leaks information to the worldwide media at the most opportune times to incite unrest. On the side, she's quite good at online gaming tournaments and has an intense rivalry with user knifeandcandle.

March is an online persona maintained by several individuals to reduce the risk of compromise in the great game which has been taken to the next level by technology. Behind the development of several "leaky" apps, spyware, and wiretaps.

April has no online presence, off the grid for her safety after her role in a costly attack to physically destroy servers at powerful companies. In a world of increased surveillance, she lurks somewhere outside the city with no cameras. You can, however, contact her on clear nights over radio waves, with encoded transmissions.

May is rumored to be one of the very first shareholders for Bazaar Publishing. This aside, has a telehealth webpage that's the height of the spiral with redirecting links, popups, eyestrain colors, and recommendations that seem too personal. Ads pop up during your regular browsing, similar to seeing the merry gentleman about. It's nearly impossible to get an actual appointment unless they email you first, confirming a stay you never reserved. The hotel has bowling alley carpeting and neon lights. I feel like it should have an arcade.

June is the founder of a secretive engineering and technology startup, rumored to be taking funding from shady sources in the private sector. Little is known about her wherabouts or activities, except her last known IP address was at a testing site on a remote island.

July is a whistleblower, leaking confidential documents and warning the public about transactions and political schemes that can lead to their destruction. Fighting a constant war against misinformation, in which she works closely with September.

August is active on twitter and reddit. I don't need to say more. He also promotes accessibility in technology and the web.

September has a podcast and is constantly finding new ways to bypass censors and promote truthful news sources. He runs a blog dedicated to history and culture, where he also shares his poetry. This man is so anti-advertisements.

October is a merciless hacker. Rumors persist she's so skilled and uncatchable because she found a way to project her consciousness into the computer. Several of the most costly ransomware and DDOS attacks bear her signature.

November operates on the black market, overseeing illegal commerce. She works not only in arms dealing and contraband, but in getting restricted supplies to places that need help.

December is an enigmatic figure of the dark web that no one has ever seen or heard, someone you can't contact but rather contacts you through heavily encrypted txt files, identifiable only through a borzoi icon. Some say they're just a myth or a virus. Some say they're an alien, tapping into satellites.

#calendar council my beloved #my writing #fallen london #modern au #cyberpunk #fl spoilers

[thedeafprophet]

I bet September had a dog growing up. He seems like he wouldve been the kind of kid excitedly holding up a puppy. you get the vibes

#i have theory that something tragic happened to his family but thats neither here nor there #prophet's fl nonsense #september of the calendar council

[scotianostra]

Did you know that up until 1599 that Scotland celebrated Christmas day on December 17th.

So Happy Christmas Day folks, Old style!!

King James VI, via an act of his Privy Council, decided that Scotland should come into line with other “well governit commonwealths.” but generally well governed France, the date for New Year's Day was changed from the 25th of March and imposed as the 1st of January.

So the day after the 31st of December, 1599, became the 1st of January, 1600. Insular England didn't make the 1st of January the official start of the year until 1752. For more facts about New Year check this link out here.

Most folks, if asked, will say that New Year's Day falls on the 1st of January each year. It was not always so, either in the United Kingdom in general or in Scotland, in particular. Come to think of it, it still isn't so in many parts of the world. New Year's Day is generally accepted as being the day that marks the beginning of a new calendar year and also the day on which the year count is incremented, but neither was that always so and still isn't so in the Jewish calendar. The 1st of January is certainly the first day of the year on the modern Gregorian calendar and it was also the first day of the year on the ancient Julian calendar as used in Rome. Despite that apparent synchronisation, January the 1st on the Julian calendar currently corresponds to January the 14th on the Gregorian calendar.

In terms of other cultures, the Hijri or Islamic New Year begins on the first day of Muharram, the first month in the Islamic calendar. In 2011, it fell on the Gregorian 26th of November. However, the Islamic year is 11 to 12 days shorter than the Gregorian year, so there's also a perennially shifting differential between the two calendars. The Hindu New Year falls according to the time and date the Sun enters Aries on the Hindu calendar, which normally means the 13th of 14th of April, depending on the Leap year. The Jewish New Year is celebrated on Rosh Hashanah, which takes place between sunset on the evening before the first day of Tishrei and nightfall on the second day of Tishrei. Strange to say, Tishrei is the seventh, rather than the first, month of the Hebrew calendar. In terms of the Gregorian calendar, Rosh Hashanah will fall between September the 5th and October the 5th. The Chinese, on the other hand, celebrate New Year's Day as the first day of the lunar calendar, corrected every three years, for solar deviations. The date normally falls between the 20th of January and the 20th of February.

Until 1599 in Scotland, the New Year began on the 25th of March, which was in line with England. However, on the 17th of December, 1599, King James VI, via an act of his Privy Council, decided that Scotland should come into line with other “well governit commonwealths.” As a result of Jamie Saxt looking over his shoulder at the likes of 'well governed' France, the date for New Year's Day was changed from the 25th of March and imposed as the 1st of January. So the day after the 31st of December, 1599, became the 1st of January, 1600. Insular England didn't make the 1st of January the official start of the year until 1752, the year it adopted the Gregorian calendar and way after James VI became James I of England.

According to the 'Register of the Privy Council', “The Kingis majestie and Lordis of his Secreit Counsall undirstanding that in all utheris weill governit commouns welthis and cuntreyis the first day of the yeir begynis yeirlie upoun the first day of Januare, commounlie callit new yeiris day, and that this realme onlie is different fra all utheris in the compt and reckning of the yeiris ...his Majestie with the advise of the Lordis of his Secreit Counsall statutis and ordanis that in all tyme cuming the first day of the yeir sal begin yeirlie upoun the first day of Januare...”

Jamie's Privy Council was a powerful legislative and administrative body, which was very useful to him. The King had much more influence over the Privy Council than he ever did over the more independently minded Scottish Parliament. The Privy Council act of the 17th December, 1599, went on to command royal officials, clerks, judges, notaries, &c., “in all tyme heireftir” to date all “thair decreittis infeftmentis charteris seasings letteris and writtis quhatsumeuir according to this p[rese]nt ordinance.” They also seemed to have had a shortage of commas in those days.

Scotland has had a chequered past regarding Christmas, perhaps that is why New Year has always been a wee bit mair special to us than the Yuletide season. Why was this? Well you can trace it back to an act of the Scottish Parliament in 1640 that made the celebration of Yule illegal.

Things had started going sour when those spoilsport Calvinist began to get a foothold, the earliest origins of the church falling out with Santa was actually some years previous, when in 1583, Glasgow Kirk at St Mungo’s Cathedral threatened those those who celebrated Yule with excommunication, this was serious in those god fearing days and would have condemned your eternal soul to hell, a fate worse than the death that would precede this!

Why was this? Well there are no celebrations of Christmas, after the Nativity itself recorded in the Bible. Therefore there should be none in Scotland, even singing a Christmas carol was considered a serious crime. After almost 60 years of build-up they eventually passed it into law. They also looked to the old testament for there religion, more or less ignoring the "papist" new one, as for the Virgin Mary, what was she but a heathen goddess dressed up in Roman garb? So she was dropped, along with all the other saints to whom benighted Papists addressed their prayers.

The law was officially repealed in 1712, but it was still generally frowned upon.

Punishments for celebrating Yule were harsh, and there was no public holiday for the Scottish people on Christmas Day.

This next part might surprise many of you, after centuries of not having, what the Yanks call "The Holiday season" Scotland eventually began to shake off it's bad relationship with Christmas, when in 1958 it became an official holiday!

January 2nd has for years been our additional festive season holiday, it wasn't until 1971 that Boxing Day officially became a holiday

After centuries of social, religious and political change, Christmas in Scotland has become a very unique celebration.

And as in times long past, we treat this time of year as a holiday season, rather than a single day. Christmas flows into Hogmanay in a glow of family, friends, fun and feasts – and that’s about as traditional as you can get, so raise your glass, turn to your loved ones today and wish them a Happy Christmas.

The first pic shows a full extract from the Scottish National Archives, the third is what is thought to be the first officially printed Gregorian Calender the basis for most calendars in the Western World.

#scotland #scottish #history #christmas #Calendar

[fallenlondonnpcfight]

*players your chess*

Though he cannot always be by your side, his stream of impassioned and lively letters, arriving daily, are almost a substitute. His confidence in his talents beyond the Calendar Council have only increased thanks to you, and he regards you with a devotion as fierce and enduring as the thistle in frost. What can't you do with September's support?

——

With you beside him, he fears no so­ciety gathering. His borrowed confi­dence draws him to the centre of the room, where he can play the crowd as if they were pieces in a game.

#fallen london #round one #polls #a tournament of roses #september of the calendar council #blooming wallflower

[wordywarriorwrites]

Calendar Girl: September

Series Masterlist: Calendar Girl Joel Miller Masterlist Author: @wordywarriorwrites​ Summary: The story of how Joel Miller falls in love again, told over a series of months. Series Warnings: NSFW. Smut. Language. Violence. Discussions of rape and consent. Alcohol consumption. Age-gap. Chapter Warning: Mention of suicide.

September

“It was unfair of me,” you murmured.

Joel experimentally flexed his hand, “What was?”

“To ask you to make a promise I knew you couldn’t keep.”

You – shoulders slumped and mouth pressed into a firm line. Him – knuckles busted and chest tight. He’d failed to meet an expectation you’d known better than to set, and the culmination of his dishonesty and your wishful thinking had been a fistfight that shot to hell all the effort and planning you’d put into his birthday.  

Tommy, Maria, and the baby. Ellie and Charlotte. A few people he worked with who actually liked him. You’d gathered them all together at the mess hall to celebrate, and Joel had been surprised, but not unpleasantly so – especially because you’d promised him an X-rated gift after the shindig.

Then, some punk-ass, twenty-something shitheads had decided to stir the pot. He could’ve ignored their mockery of his age and their disapproval of you kissing him, but when their snide remarks shot at him transitioned into disgusting insults hurled toward you?

In his hands, a meal tray and a warped fork became weapons. He’d stabbed the tines into the calve of one. Beat the second unconscious with the tray. Put his fists to use on the third pissant who’d actually spewed the fighting words, and hadn’t stopped until Tommy dragged him outside and far away from the source of his rage.

While Joel felt he’d been justified in his actions, you were concerned with the peanut gallery. One of the kids had been the son of prominent council members, which meant the situation would inevitably become more about who was involved than what was said. The rules, politics, and social innerworkings of Jackson were convoluted, but if the parents kicked up enough fuss?

“If you get kicked out, Ellie will follow,” you asserted. “It would break her heart to leave Charlotte behind, but she’d do it.”

He sighed. Reached for the bottle of booze at his elbow. The bourbon glugged in the strained silence as he poured, and the first shot helped quell the rage that still simmered just beneath the surface. The second took the edge of the pain, but when he went for a third, you leaned forward, and cupped your hand over the rim of the glass.

“I’d follow you, too,” you insisted.                                                                         

Joel looked at you and swallowed hard, “Would you?”

A quirked brow and tilted head. A beat later, you slid from your seat and onto his lap with an achingly familiar ease, and pressed your forehead to his furrowed brow.

“Wild horses couldn’t keep me from you,” you insisted quietly. “And I don’t care what anyone thinks or says – I only care about you. You’re mine, Joel Miller, and I love you.”

Your steely certainty brought on a heady rush of warmth and rightness that slipped and settled right into his bones. He’d never been claimed before, never felt as if he truly belonged to any one person – not in the way he now belonged to you – and the declaration of your possessiveness extended beyond words when you abruptly slanted your mouth over his and reached between his legs.  

Joel groaned and gripped your waist, “Sweetheart, what are you –”  

“Let me,” you breathed against his lips. “Wanna take care of you, Joel.”

You worked him through his jeans – built him up quick until his dick strained against his fly. You mouthed at him – ran your tongue and teeth along his jaw and neck and ear. Belt. Button. Zipper. Then, your knees hit the floorboards, and Joel wound his hand through the mess of your hair and tugged until you turned your face upward and focused your eyes on him.

“Say it again,” he demanded.

“I love you.”

“And?”

You dug your nails into his jean-clad thighs, “You’re mine.”

His cock was freed and then, it vanished – first, between your lips, and then, down your throat. You licked, laved, and suckled sloppily on every inch of him and when he came – teeth clenched, head thrown back, and hips practically levitated in pursuit of your mouth – you swallowed, swallowed, swallowed until he yanked you to your feet.

“Bed,” he panted. “Now.”

You smiled knowingly, “That an order or your birthday wish?”  

Shared laughter. Nuzzled noses. Then, a slow dance out of the kitchen and up the stairs, made slower by kisses that lingered and touches that wandered and clothes that got divested along the way. Hot skin and cool sheets. You, prone and spread wide in the center of the mattress. Him, flat on his belly with his face nestled between your thighs.

Your hand – splayed over the crown of his head. His lips – pursed over your clit. Your clenched, wet sex around his fingers and his cock smeared with renewed arousal. Joel tasted you – filled his senses with your lust until you gasped and burst like ripe fruit on his tongue. You vibrated beneath him, breathlessly chanted his name, and when he crawled up your body, you welcomed him with open arms.

Your thigh – hitched high over his waist. His hand – planted on the small of your back. Fitted together, eye-to-eye and mouth-to-mouth, with your breasts crushed against his chest and his teeth sunk into your shoulder. Buried deep and tight, his hips rolled, languid and smooth, and you rocked your pelvis down to meet him every time.

Long lashes and lust-blown pupils. Furrowed brow and kiss-swollen lips. The smeared blood from his knuckles on your chin, cheeks, and nose. And your eyes – fuck, your eyes – made him feel raw. Exposed. Desired. Loved.  

“M’sorry,” he rasped as he rolled you onto your back.

“No,” you smirked as you trailed a fingertip along the cut of his jaw, “You’re not.”

His grin – hidden against the crook of your neck. Your thighs – wrapped snugly around his waist. Knees dug into the mattress and hands intertwined above your head. You squeezed his bruised knuckles hard when you came, and that lick of pain got all twisted up with the pleasure, and he let go right after – filled you up and held himself deep inside your warmth as you pulsed around him.

A heady, jumbled mess of leaden limbs and heavy breaths. His face – pillowed by your breasts. Your nose – nuzzled against the crown of his head. The steady beat of your heart and the combined scent of your skin and his and the sunshine air embedded in the sheets. The longer Joel remained in the embrace of your arms and body, the more he realized just how much your declaration had unburned him.

Father. Brother. Uncle. Husband. He’d been all of those things before the outbreak. Had loved before the outbreak. After Sarah’s death, the grief that had swallowed him whole, and he’d hardened himself to the point where he’d almost forgotten what it felt like to feel anything other than crippling regret and agonizing sorrow.

Maybe it was why he was so surprised to realize that he loved you, too – perhaps for much longer than he’d actually realized, and in a way that he’d never loved anyone else before.

Joel loved you in the ways he knew how – with his body and his fists and what little remained of his heavy, broken heart. He loved you to distraction – mind always curious as to the what, where, how, and why of everything related to you. He loved your thoughtfulness – the mended clothes, surprise treats, and bonfires on the back porch. He loved your kindness – how you wholly embraced Ellie and never judged his coping mechanisms and helped him set up a private place of remembrance in his backyard for Sarah and Tess.

His sordid past and brutish behavior. The suicide attempt, displayed on his temple for all to see, like some sort of shameful brand. You had his number. Knew his story. Accepted it and even embraced it. And though you’d never needed to, and he’d never asked you to, you helped him carry the burdens that still crushed him.  

And Joel understood because he knew – he knew he wouldn’t only fight for you and kill for you.

He’d live for you, too.

October

#joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #calendar girl #wordywarriorwrites

[freefromlightandlaw]

February: If you use an axe to execute a capitalist, you're much more likely to get your hands dirty, while if you use a guillotine, you just pull the lever and it's done. Much more neat and efficient!

July: I think they have a little string you let go of to drop the blade, but your point is duly made.

April: If you can find some folks willing to get a bit splashed, I feel like you can get SEVERAL axes for the same amount of money and spread the work around a bit.

January: The guillotine is about the community coming together to build a machine with no purpose other than to dismember the ruling class. Axes are great tactile tools, don't get me wrong. But a guillotine is a machine built for no capitalist purposes, you need at least 2 people to build it (I imagine a barn raising scenario), and it executes wealth hoarders. Can an axe do that?

September: Verrah fair point, verrah fair point.

August: We could all just get nice daggers and pull an Ides of March!

#fallen london #the jovial contrarian #january of the calendar council #february of the calendar council #july of the calendar council #april of the calendar council #september of the calendar council #incorrect fallen london quotes #the counsel of the calendar #source: systlin #he speaks