A.N. — So, I was driving home one day and an idea about personifying the months of the year popped into my head. Mostly, this is probably gonna be little one-shots at least once a month, about what I see as the Months' dysfunctional family type situation.
Now, I am an American, and so much of the characterization comes from holidays celebrated in America — for instance, November really likes turkey because Americans celebrate Thanksgiving then, and he likes watching American football, and March likes wearing green because of St. Patrick's Day. They may also sometimes have a political tilt, but mostly satire, or to acknowledge the different attitudes in my country.
Also, this is just an introduction to the Months' personalities; there is more to the surface which I will get into later. I hope you all will stick around with me long enough to see. Enjoy!
It was about 8:00 in the morning when February awoke.
With a few yawns and a couple stretches, she planted her feet on the ground and stood, shuffling over to her floor-length mirror. Earth-brown skin and chocolate eyes stared back at her, and she smiled, deciding she would keep this look for another day, maybe a week. She skipped about her room, humming a tune as she changed from her purple nightgown into a red sweater and black pants. She gave her black curls a few brushes, put on her amethyst pendant, and then headed towards the kitchen.
"Good morning, everyone!" February greeted cheerily.
"Ugh, Feb, really? Turn it down!" June cried, putting his hands over his ears. He also had a pair of sunglasses on, hiding what was surely red rings around his brown eyes, as he slumped in one of the kitchen chairs. February felt a little bad, but it was his fault for drinking so much last night; the hangover was his problem.
"Good morning, dear," answered May, who was busy at the stove making what appeared to be pancakes. At least she was using Bisquick this time, so they should be edible, as long as she didn't burn them.
"Morning," August said with a nod of her head, peridot-rimmed teacup in hand. Just then February felt a bump from behind, followed by a small squeal.
"Oh, sorry, Febs!" September cried, stepping back sheepishly. "I didn't see you there." Looking like a typical high school girl this morning, she had her phone clutched in her hands, thumbs poised over the button; she'd also added a blue streak to her blond hair.
"It's fine," February assured, just as May looked over and frowned.
"I hope you don't plan on spending all day on your phone," she said in her disapproving-mother voice. "Don't you have homework?"
September stood blinking at May for a while, and then her green eyes widened as a look of horror appeared on her face. "DO I!?" she shrieked, and then dashed off to discover the answer so fast February could swear she saw a dust cloud in the other Month's wake.
"Why can't anyone be quiet this morning?" June moaned, slumping even further.
"You should have stayed in your room this morning," August told him, seeming totally unsympathetic.
"But I fell asleep here."
August ignored him and looked at May, who was staring worriedly after September. "I don't know why you said that, May; you know what that word does to her."
"I do," May replied ruefully. "Maybe I should go talk to her."
February left her to decide, heading into the living room to see who else was up. The TV was blarng a football game, and per usual, it was being watched by November, who was hands deep in a tub of KFC. When he saw February, he waved (since his mouth was full, also per usual), and as he did so, the button on his pants popped off. November frowned and started to reach for it over his bulging belly, but February was quicker, sparing him the struggle.
November swallowed and then beamed at her, taking the button from her. "Thanks, Feb. Don't know what I'd do without you." Then something on the screen caught his attention, and he let out a whoop. "YEAH! Go EAGLES! WOO-HOO!"
"No problem, November," February answered.
"Yeah, who knows," said a voice off to the side, "if February wasn't so nice all the time, you might have to get off your lazy bum once in a while." February turned to see March tapping away at the computer, his orange curls looking even more unruly this morning.
February frowned as she walked over to him; November didn't seem to be listening.
"That's rude of you," she told him. "It's bad form to start off the new year with such an attitude."
"Mmm," was March's response, his eyes flickering back and forth as he read somethng on the screen. Then a wide grin that she had to admit looked adorable on his twelve-year-old face appeared, and he let out a gleeful laugh. "Yeesss, April owes me 20 bucks!"
"I owe you what now?" cried an indignant voice, followed by the closing of a screen door. March and February looked to see April stepping in through a side door, dressed in a yellow dress that had a matching boa and was dripping with her gemstone. Her skin was a darker black than February's, and she'd styled her hair in an afro today; as usual, she looked about twelve or thirteen, a match for March.
March smirked and pointed at the computer. "Easter is March 27th this year," he told April, who scowled at him with her arms crossed, "which means I win. Pay up."
"Fine, fine," April grumbled. "Man, I really thought I'd win this time!"
Her statement was answered by a contemptous snort. October, striding up from his bedroom/laboratory, spoke to both April and March, saying, "If you did anything but blindly continue to bet on your own month, you might be able come up with better odds. As it is, you both can only count on having a fifty-fifty chance; it shouldn't be that surprising that you lose the amount of times that you do."
March's emerald eyes flashed dangerously, more at the tone than the words, and February decided to step in before a fight broke out. "October!" she exclaimed, putting an extra layer of cheerfulness in her voice. "Good to see you upstairs!"
October looked at her with a somewhat annoyed expression, eyes dark enough to appear black almost hdden by his black bangs. "I always come up on the first," he responded, "and that is something you know very well, February. It's part of that ridiculous house rules contract you and May made me sign."
"Just nice to know you're following it," February replied. She then looked around, counting off in her head those she had seen already this morning. "Is December down there with you? And have you seen July or January?"
"You know how December likes to disappear when his term is over," October answered. "I haven't seen him, or the other two."
"I bet December's with Christmas, already talking about next year," March piped up, anger clearly forgotten.
"I'll take that bet," April responded immediately. To February, she said, "I think July is out somewhere, though I don't know –"
She was cut off as a red streak burst in the door, with a shout of "Whoo! Hey! What's up!", followed by a couple sharp barks. The blur stopped to reveal a bright-eyed, red-cheeked July, dressed in under armor shorts and a red tank top. He was sporting his dirty blond hair in a buzz cut, and he also had a sweat band on his forehead. At his side was his trusty Labrador, Sparky.
"Hey guys," July greeted, jogging in place, looking not a bit winded. "Sparky and I just ran around the whole town, it was great!" He looked towards the kitchen. "May got breakfast going yet?"
"I think she's making pancakes," February answered.
"Sweet! C'mon, Spark, let's eat!" Sparky wagged his tail and eagerly followed his master's lead, the ruby on his collar clicking against his ID tag. February shook her head and smiled at his enthusiasm.
"Well," she mused, "I'll let December be, wherever he is; we all know what the day after our own terms feel like. But I would like to see Janaury, so you three play nice while I find him."
"I'm going back downstairs; July's zest for life is already giving me headache," Octover replied, turning around to do just as he said.
"And I'll be super nice, as long as April gives me what she owes," said March.
"Oh, hold your horses, I have to get my wallet out!" April exclaimed.
February went back through the kitchen, where August was now at the stove, muttering something about 'always having to clean up your messes', and July hovering over her shoulder, a plate in hand; June was still slouched in his chair. In the adjoining room, she found September sitting at the dining room table, surrounded by text books and looking very unhappy, while May was scratching away with a pencil next to her. February passed into one more room, then turned left to go out on the porch, which is where she found January.
He had his back to her, staring out at the horizon, contemplating things the rest of them could not see. February always thought he looked rather regal like that, back upright, hands gripping the railing, like an emperor of the people they had received their names from. He had on the dress pants and dress shirt he'd worn last night, rather than a toga or a cape, but the sentiment still applied.
At the sound of her opening the door, he turned, and smiled at her. "Happy New Year," he said. His eyes the color of a red garnet, as they would remain for the rest of the month.
"Happy birthday," she replied, joining him at the rail. Still in a Christmas-caroling mood, she said, "Another year over..."
"And a new one's just begun," he finished with a chuckle. "I hear they're all up to their usual antics."
"Mmm. I have a feeling they've all already broken their resolutions," February replied. January looked at her.
"You got any this year, Feb?" he asked.
February tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Same as every year," she answered. "Keep our little family all together."
"Ah, I like that one," January said. He reached over and picked up two glasses that she hadn't realized were there before, and handed her one; they were both filled with orange juice. January raised the glass. "To another good year."
There was a screech from the kitchen, and the smell of smoke; August began yelling, "July! I told you to watch that!"; June sounded like he was sobbing; and Sparky let out an ear-piercing howl.
February ignored all that — it figured that New Year's Day morning would be just the same as every other — and clinked her glass against January's. "To another good year."