Blake was so furious he almost showed an expression, all this fuss on the day the conjunction was to take place, what the hell was going on? Well no matter, he had plenty more guards still to summon, and thus far the entire “fight” had been limited to minor injuries and vandalism. Nothing that would put off what he sought to invoke, and once they were here, oh then these fools would learn. (Usually an internal monologue like that practically obligates one to laugh maniacally immediately after. But Blake had no time for such nonsense, deciding instead to treat himself by ordering an extra pack of staples from the supply room, even though he didn’t strictly need them. Truly he had to be careful or all this power would go to his head.)

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Out on the streets the architects were doing what they did best, a fun fact not many people know about architecture. If you know how to put a structure up it’s a small matter to put that knowledge to use to twist it beyond all recognition, and they had built a lot of identical places. That and a few builders apprentices who were about as sick of the sight of the same bloody building as the poor sods who had to rubber-stamp countless copies of the same design were more than happy to lend a hand with mangling the hell out of them. (In a safe manner of course.)

Eileen was there with the builders wielding a hammer that looked much too large for her. (She was going to feel that in the morning of course, but for now it was totally worth it to see the looks on the bastards in the grey suits faces, or would be if they had any other expression beyond complete neutrality to everything that was happening. So she had to settle for the winces they couldn’t suppress when the lads from the builders yards came in swinging bloody great big bits of wood. Turns out tikkitakki is surprisingly thwacky.)

Mibbet meanwhile was on a completely different rampage, they needed things disordered? She could do that. They had made a city without coffee, and now was time for them to realise the folly of their actions.

Mibbet dashed from de-cafe to de-cafe causing as much havoc as she possibly could while hollering at the top of her lungs about how the crap they served tasted. Soon joined by a minor mob of average Joe’s, who were rather pissed off about their lack of a cup of Joe. Between them they rampaged through the streets taking out their fury on the watch. They had already discovered the only possible use for a hot cup of decaf, projectiles, and though the civilians were outnumbered somewhat they were putting up a solid fight.

Errol meanwhile was dashing back and forth trying to keep the damage caused by Rascal having fun from going into typical overkill. Then he noticed a building, a filing office. Remembered he had a burning cat, then had an idea. Errol had a wonderful, awful idea. He carefully lured Rascal inside, and then gently closed the door.

As you have no doubt noticed, cats suddenly finding themselves shut in somewhere new have only two regular responses, they can be summed up thus. 1. Look at the door, yowl for a bit, and then find the most inconvenient place to lie down for a nap. Or 2. Go completely, utterly, and irrevocably apeshit until they are released. Rascal never being the most placid of felines, of course went for option 2, the havoc that could be heard from inside amused Errol long enough to ensure that the paperwork was done for, at which point he quickly opened the door and Rascal shot out so fast it was as if the hounds of heck were on his tail.

Errol snickered and then headed off following the fiery trail of feline fury, there were still another dozen such offices in town. He really needed some Catnip.

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Sir Leeroy of course was watching the wagon, he was much too old to run as far as he used to after The Princesses when they were on the run. So he had released the horses (they could be lured back later with some hot mash), and set about fortifying their base of operations. Unusually Alba was with him today, having sharp enough ears to hear if Rosalind whistled. For now though they had come home to roost. Anybody who got too close was battered by an oversized bird hybrid without great prejudice, (with great prejudice would imply an active decision making process somewhere down the line in who to bat at. Alba didn’t like stuff like that, settling instead for “they’re OK don’t maul,” and “they suck maul the hell outta them. A side effect of being somewhat bird brained most likely.)

Elvira was with the schoolkids, introducing them to new ammunition. They now had bottle rockets, eggs, multiple cobbled together siege engines of a variety of types, some rather oversized chunks of high powered elastic, and some balloons. They were having the time of their lives. Any time a watch man got too close she would use Spikey The Motivational pike in a manner they probably found most de-motivational, from a high vantage on the roof of a building. Of course some geniuses had also cooked up some rather creative alternate ammunition for the trebuchet (despite a disapproving tsk from Letta, of course the fact she seemed to grin a moment later somewhat ruined her disapproving sound.)

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Unfortunately for everybody stars and planets are for the most part rather punctual things, and the majority of the square was still intact despite everybodies best efforts.

The great conjunction began, and the city started to glow with an eerie light. Usually when stuff like this happens the earth shakes terribly and the ground opens up, you know? Typical apocalypse stuff, but when you are invoking order, it gets complicated. But the invocation took place, as everybody looked up to the sky, they were too late.