This definitely isn't a tradition I had at home, but since it produces some results here I don't mind taking part. It's kind of nice, since we can't always go shopping, and now seems to be the time to give presents to everyone.

So here you go, Santa Claus:

( Private - List of Presents Below - West & Billy, Libby, Kirk, Data, Facilier, Adam, the Sexbys, Paddy, and everyone else )

I can't do this anymore.

(ooc: This is all that Morgan managed to write after sitting in front of her journal, fuming, for about half an hour. She started to write more, but it just didn't make it onto the page.)

Y'know, I'm not saying I'd get a dog to keep full time, but after a few weeks it's taking a while to get used to not having one in the room. ...King Charles misses Mason, too.

[Private to Libby]

I'm sorry I lost my temper the other night. I shouldn't have called you names.

[Private to West]

Are you ready to get out and stretch your legs? 

You could have at least put a few bottles or something in the kitchen for people to nick out of, Admiral. Sometimes this sobriety stuff is for the dogs, and I think you know that.

Is everything running all right in the kitchen? Supplies replenish in a few days, right?

( [Everybody But Davros Filter] )

Who the Hell has been in my room?

[Private to Libby]

I think I need a drink. Lots. And Lots. Of drinking.

(ooc: Meant to be private, but not. Because of drinking/pain. Morgan waited down her medicine so she could get drunk. The good news is the dull ache makes her slightly more coherent ( Read more... )

[Warden Filter]

Nothing bad has come of it yet, thankfully, but I would appreciate it in the future that if Wardens are going to bring my Inmate to the pub or bring the pub to him, then speak to me before doing so. Major West doesn't have his own monthly supply of liquor for a reason, which some of you should have understood or at least questioned ( Read more... )

So...I think I'm ready for that talk. You don't talk about it to anybody else, right?