#legoooooo

With every passing moment, Donna was growing more and more anxious. Late afternoon threatened to tick over into early evening, the sun finding its way into the gloom and leaving her, once again, thoroughly alone. She could already hear the polite farewells that danced on his lips.

No.

I cannot bear this.

Crane, for all his enormity, was stooped over her comparatively tiny workbench in examination of a freshly birthed doll. The Cadou had yet to fully acclimatise to its new host and so the little wooden limbs twitched this way and that. In a day or two it would become little Matthew, a boy Donna had been so graced with in her fitful dreams. 

The Lord stood behind Crane, hands balled and feet shuffling into the dark recess of the doorframe. It would only take moments for Donna to learn if the Doctor held resistance to her powers, pheromones oozing heady from every pore and willing her flowers to take him in their iron grip. Willing him to stay until his viscera had rotted to dust and naught but bones remained. Here. Forever. Her voice was whispery when she spoke, distant almost.

For this glorious day, I have written you all a poem:

“Today is the day,

Where: Santorini Mansion | The Fight When: Literally Fighting.

“You’re a fucking dead man-” Finally the night had started. For majority of the evening, Julian had found himself bored by small talk. There was only so much wine he could drink, only so much civility that he could give the general public before he wanted to go jump into the port. He hadn’t been far from the first swing, eyes watching as the first of one of his men connected with the face of the enemy. Someone might as well had blown a starting gun, Vittori descending on Ivory and vice versa. A grin on his face, he found himself face to face with a familiar face: one of the bouncers at the Luxure. “Mate, long time no see-” With a brisk movement, knuckles busted the stranger's chest.

It wasn’t long until the ballroom turned into a scene from green street hooligans, instigators like Julian all too happy to take part. One lucky bastard had gotten a hand on him, the Pistris commissioner busted lip on display when he felt an arm try tugging him away. “Fuck of-” The words were caught dead on his tongue. None other than Luna Vargas was pulling Julian from the fray. “This is one hell of a party, darling” 

I'm going in babes.