#sacksmas

[the-insouciant-scientist]

I just find it kind of hilarious that the Semi-Automated Mary Lloyd (Mari Lwyd) is found at the Fruits of the Zee and not. Christmas?? Anyways here's Harper having a rollicking good time running around. They're probably rap battling people for honey and black wings absinthe instead of the usual fare though lmao.

Conversation on the right reads:

Harper: Tis the season for Mari Lwyd!

Offscreen person: Don't you mean Mary Lloyd? (And isn't that a summer thing?)

Harper: Yeah Mari Lwyd that's what I said :-) (Well, Yes and No. Hope that helps!)

[c-schroed]

Today was the day when the rats that I sided with to get that poor fox out of Mr Sacks' custody had their great attack. Against the incarnation of Mr Irons, of all Sackses. And what shall I say.

Went not as plannend. Not at all. But. Mr Irons commenting a situation with a single "?" - Absolutely worth it. Absolutely. Worth it.

Oh, and we also got the fox, in the end. Poor thing. But this first bit of text? That's what I really wanted. Thanks a lot, @failbettergames!

(Interested in the whole result text? Feel free to find it after the cut.)

[bizarrebazaar13]

very tired and almost definitely getting sick so I apologize that this isn’t better worded. but everyone on Fallen London tumblr (flblr?) is so nice and ily <3 ok good night and merry christmas if you celebrate. don’t eat the lacre. etc.

[sith-shenanigans]

I used @violant-apologia’s fantastic google doc to make a couple of custom items for Amias. Remember, avid gloves are forever, not only for Sacksmas.

[irrigos]

Book of Red Murder Chapter 23

Sacksmas managed to pass without incident, thankfully, and as the Yuletide season swept out of London, the signs of the next holiday took its place. The streets were choked with the cloying stench of flowers in bloom. Shopkeepers found themselves sold out of playing cards, chess pieces, and glasses of assorted teeth. People stumbled upon inscrutable gifts, the intentions behind which they would attempt to divine over the coming days. The Feast of the Exceptional Rose had come around once more, to inflict itself upon innocent Londoners.

Read it here!

[grimm-the-tiger]

Merry Neathmas! May Mr Sacks not take too much from you. Some notes (with major spoilers!) below the cut:

This is based on day 9 of Sacksmas, when Mr Eaten decides to pay you a visit. Since it's, you know, Mr Eaten, I did my best to make it seem a bit out of place. It has the most obvious guidelines in the entire drawing, and the coloring is intentionally sloppy to make it seem like it's struggling against the shape I've drawn it in. The lighting and shading are also meant to make it seem as if Sacks is the only source of light in the room, which I thought would be fitting seeing as Eaten is supposed to be dead and most ghosts in folklore glow. As for why I drew Mr Eaten specifically, I kinda-sorta got day nine of Sacksmas spoiled for me by TVTropes, and the concept of the worst version of Mr Sacks being the one who gives you gifts instead of taking them has been lingering in my brain ever since. The Fallen London Festive Fanart Competition has just given me an excuse to use it.

[anomaly-beans]

Sacksmas is very funny when you live in one of the bazaar towers.

Imagining whoever is Mr Sacks that day just clambering up the walls to enter through the window and demanding items.

Breaking down Merry's window or door and demanding them pay rent for the year 😔

[tvntheatre]

On the second day of Sacksmas an opportunity brings to me

Unnecessary liquors~!

[sunlessea]

🌿🍒 adrifires <3

standing under a mistletoe ... / @londonfallen

he doesn't know what to make of the neath's holidays, and truthfully never has. he doesn't celebrate with them, beyond the fact none would allow caitiffs into their societal circles to do so in the first place, not even the brujah or revolutionaries were fond to take on his kind into their own traditions. the castle sometimes splits up into their own little groups, but he doesn't, not so big on friends and the like. still, he finds the neath's traditions to be pale imitations of what the cultures above would be, were they not tainted by the bazaar.

sacksmas lacks the genuine cheer that holidays on the surface have, though he hadn't ever been keen on them, either. the lights down here are more ghastly than charming, and like is he to be worried trees or lacre bite or poison rather than anything else.

he's surprised caminus is decorated at all, if he's being honest. but he isn't the only scrooge who shows up for work these days.

"you didn't decorate all this, did you?" he rolls his eyes, making gestures to the gaudy lights and garland strung all around. even its office has been infected, but he can't find it in himself to imagine that mr fires had ordered anyone to decorate this place of any free will of its own. its jovial persona is a lie, and london knows it. "this isn't santa's workshop. we all come here to be miserable, there's really no need for all this."

he walks 'round its desk, past it in fact, to slap down the stack of papers he carries onto the mess of paperwork it already has scattered around, neglected, behind it among filings. he doesn't even stir when he hears it scrambling to get up to him, licking his finger instead to pass through the pages. evaluations. yeah, merry sacksmas, here's the deciding factor on whether mr fires kills you or keeps you around. what great prospects for the future, in their holiday season.

fires is purring in his ear before he even gets a chance to whip around and quip at it, its hands at his hips making his posture stiffen and his jaw set. as it's murmuring against his shoulder, he whips around to shoo it off with his hand. in doing so, he finds what he teases — the beautifully discreet mistletoe strung up 'round them. his nose scrunches. "i hope this means you're kissing all your neddies when they flood in to do your dirty work," he comments dryly, ignoring its pouting.

it isn't subtle, and he doesn't have a patient bone in his body.

"surely you don't want to kiss me, sir?" through narrowed eyes, he glares at it, before picking up one of its binders of paperwork and thwacking it into its chest. "stop waiting around and get back to work. you have better things to do than moon at a caitiff all day. your reputation's already in tatters as it is."

[warabola]

↑ Agreed, I'm also curious!

I'm sure certain Masters are left out because of their involvements with ambition endings. Mr Iron I could see because of its occasional suspicion/complicated relationship with the Bazaar-- it actively warns players against being involved with the Bazaar or its stories during Sacksmas. Or maybe it wanted to stretch its wings and get some bloodshed in.

Mr Pages is a mystery to me, though, considering it simps so hard for France.

Ok but the real question about the flight of the Masters (I say, as if there's not a dozen of them) is: why didn't we get more of them joining the fight? And why did we get those ones? Fires is pretty obvious, it doesn't want the Sixth City and that seems to have been the alternative to beating the Starved. I don't know enough about Pages or Iron to know their possible motivations, but also what was keeping the others from joining in? Did they disagree on the plan of action? Did they just not care about the city enough to fight for it? Alternatively, it's hardly like any of the three seemed to be struggling in that fight - did they just not think the situation was bad enough to need more of them? I'm so interested to know

[the-insouciant-scientist]

[dwarven-beard-spores]

Mr Sacks, take these tiddies

[jane-d-ankh-veos]

Sketches for FBG's Discord (after this happened).

[shipburner]

the construction “i was [x] once. i will not be again” still weighs in my mind like an anchor, as does “a trace of sadness, like the frost that silvers the night”. thank you @failbettergames

[freefromlightandlaw]

Don't flee the Merry Gentleman, let nothing you dismay,

For wherever you run to, he'll come for you today

He'll find you in your nightmares and he'll spirit you away

Don't fear the Merry Gentleman, let nothing you affright,

For he'll keep you and he'll watch you sleep every night,

And nothing he takes away will ever see the light.

Merry Sacksmas!

[plaguedoctorraven]

Day 11 of Sacksmas