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It had not, by any means, been an easy decision to make. Ploutonion had gone over and over his options, considered every angle - but particularly since becoming a Squire and realizing that it did not, in fact, get any better with rank-up - the silly little wand he had now was barely better than a pomegranate, even if it came with magic - and the ever-increasing surety that the longer he stayed with his family, the worse things would get, he had made his decision.

The Negaverse was the only sane option, and the door was already opened. Quartz had helpfully given him the name of one of their General-Queens, and it was to her that he addressed a letter, sent by Knight signet ring.

To Her Majesty General-Queen Laurelite of the Negaverse,

I wish to request a meeting to discuss my entrance into your organization's service. I have found Order lacking in almost every possible capacity, and see no reason to continue laboring for the losing side of the war. However, I have a slightly unusual request regarding the circumstances of my corruption, which is best explained in person. Please meet me at the decorative fountain in the northern portion of Central Park, sometime past ten o'clock in the evening, if that is to your convenience.

- Ploutonion Squire of Saturn


He had sent the note, arrived at the fountain at the time he had requested, and now it was just a game of waiting and hoping she showed up.

And that she was willing to talk, first.


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Laurelite was used to papers appearing out of nowhere; in her line of work papers were always sprouting up in front of her.

Just not literally.

The fact that there was a Knight corresponding with her had been a source of great interest; when she first received the note from Ploutonion, she has skimmed it, read it, read it again, and then retreated to her office to try and decipher what it could have truly meant.

Certainly it had to be a trap; why else would a Knight want to meet with her under such pretenses? Though, her ability to successfully corrupt anyone was sorely disappointing and she was desperate to earn Metallia's favors. While Metallia had been generous of late, still riding on the highs of the figurative future they had seen, Laurelite was keenly aware that she was not meeting her expectations. Any day now, she suspected Metallia would be upon her, furious and unforgiving for her shortcomings.

Laurelite's hands clenched into fists as she read the note again.

A successful corruption might be enough to earn her a little favor.

And if it was a trap, she could stand to blow off a little steam.

The General Queen stood, donned her signature smile, and teleported to Central Park. She was immediately are of only a single energy signature—off to a good start—and approached.

"I am Laurelite," she stated calmly. "And if you are not Ploutonion, then I regret to inform you that you're about to have a very bad evening."


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When Laurelite arrived, Ploutonion was immediately reminded of Quartz's description of a General-Queen's energy signature. "you'll know one's around when you get this sudden feeling like all the joy's gone out of the world and no one's ever going to be happy again." he'd said. "It's this feeling like Death itself is coming to smack you in the face with its big, unholy d**k." That description felt painfully accurate, when actually confronted with the overwhelming power of a General-Queen of the Negaverse.

He had no doubt she could carry through on her threat very easily.

"Fortunately for me," he said, and he made every effort to play as calm as possible, "I am, in fact Ploutonion. You must be General-Queen Laurelite, then. I'll cut to the chase, because you don't look like the type of woman who enjoys having her time wasted." That was an understatement. Undoubtedly she had better things to do than parley with a Squire, and she would be eager to get back to them - and make life very difficult for him if he detained her too long. He couldn't stand up against her - if she didn't agree to his proposition, he was, he suspected, going into the Negaverse one way or another tonight.

"I want to corrupt, as I said - my reasons are my own, though I'd be willing to give an overview if you doubt my sincerity. I'm well and aware that you can bring me over whether I want to go or not, anyway. But I believe I can be most useful to you if my former comrades believe that I was taken into the Negaverse by force." This was where it got a bit dicey. "...And my new comrades, as well. A word from the wrong lips could bring down a deception as delicate as this. To that end, I'd like to stage a little dust-up in front of as many people as I can manage - I'll call for backup from my side, you from yours, and everyone sees me dragged in kicking and screaming. Instead of a traitor, I'm a victim - someone desperately in need of help. Someone the rest of Order will want to talk to, to save."


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Laurelite's eyes narrowed a bit; she seemed to be judging his words and calculating something. It wasn't an unfair request; his motivations seemed reasonable enough. Forcing someone to accept the Chaos was so much work, but to have someone come over, knowingly, but prepared to play the role of a victim?

Well, it was certainly sneaky.

And advantageous.

The enemy would most certainly see him as a sympathetic case, tragically taken from his true course—torn from his family and all that he knew. Perhaps they would be more inclined to trust him, then.

But of course, there was still the matter of a trap.

He could invite anyone—and if he had too many Princes or Princesses join in the fray, her team would be at a vast disadvantage. Of course, she could go ask Apatite for her aid, but the woman had been odd of late. Her usual ramblings about vampires and werewolves seemed like distant conversations of the past. Now, Apatite had taken on a darker obsession.

It was almost frightening. Laurelite didn’t trust Apatite not to foil the plan; she was tactless and indelicate, and there was a distance between the two General Queens worse now than there had ever been before. Even if Laurelite had the time to repair it, she wondered if Apatite had the sense to try.

But then, there was always the Dark Mirror Court. An undesirable option, necessary only if need be. Their numbers were small and dwindling again; Laurelite supposed they would respond if threatened.

The Negaverse had an army. Perhaps not as strong here in Destiny City as in other parts of the world, but Metallia had chosen this spot for their headquarters. Metallia had chosen here for Beryl, when it had been her day. Metallia had kept them here. So there must have been something important about here—or, at least, about the agents here.

Metallia must have had some faith in them, and that meant Laurelite should have, too.

"I accept," she said after a long silence.

Trap or not, she would have faith that her agents could eliminate any threat posed to them. And what they couldn't eliminate, she would.

"You are a clever little Squire. I should be interested to have you among our ranks. Good minds are hard to come by." A fault with corrupting teenagers into their ranks, unfortunately; they still had so far to go before they were fully developed. Their age and enthusiasm was advantageous and was sure to secure them loyalty, but Laurelite loved a good plan.

And if Ploutonion intended to fulfill the plan he proposed, he would be a most interesting ally.

"How long will it take you to get your affairs in order?"

How long before he would join them?


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Ploutonion held his breath. There was no way to be sure which way she would lean - and if she shot down his plan, because it certainly wasn't risk-free, he would just surrender and make this as easy on himself as possible. Even without witnesses, he could still spin his lie, it would just be much easier if plenty of people actually saw it "happen."

It was a physical effort not to fidget or display his nerves - but that was acting 101, never let them see you sweat. He had been pushing away stage fright for years. This, though, was a bit beyond "oh god people are watching" - this was, in a lot of ways, life or death.

He didn't bother to mask his relief when she accepted. "Excellent," he said, and her compliments gave him a little puff of confidence. It wasn't often he actually heard that he was clever - but he was willing to accept it, certainly.

"My affairs are already well and in order, your majesty. I assumed I would be leaving here corrupted one way or the other." What little there had been to put in order - "borrow" a bit of money from his parents, say goodbye to Alistair and Shale and a few other friends, and leave nothing else. "I can make the call now; no need to wait around."


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The smile on Laurelite's face twitched just a bit, and it almost seemed more real. He was clever if he realized that he would be leaving here corrupted one way or the other. Her pulse picked up a bit when he said he was ready now.

Now was good.

"If that is your decision, then you need only make the first move, Squire. I will accommodate you. And when the time is right, I will corrupt you."

Changing his mind between now and then was meaningless. She would have her victory.


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Ploutonion nodded, and brought his ring up to his face, activating the little magical upgrade. It was such a brilliant little device - useful for sending polite letters to General-Queens, and for making distress calls to bring his own people into what was, effectively a trap.

He took a breath, and when he spoke into the ring, he sounded genuinely panicked.

"This is Ploutonion Squire of Saturn - I'm by the fountain in Central Park, and...there's a General-Queen -- I don't want to corrupt, and I don't want to die, please, help!"

He turned off the message, and then nodded politely to the General-Queen, all traces of fear gone for the moment. He would need to bring it back when there were others here, but not just yet.

"Call your backup, Majesty. I'm putting on the performance of a lifetime here, I'd hate to do it in front of a small audience."


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Laurelite watched as Ploutonion made his call, relatively impressed at his ability to lie on the spot. While a good trait to have, it was a dangerous one; she would need to keep her eye on this one.

She withdrew a crystal from a hidden pocket, toyed with it for a second, and then held it up to speak into it. She needed no theatrics. "General Queen Laurelite," she announced into it, "Any and all agents in the immediate vicinity of Central Park should direct themselves to the fountain. I am pursuing Squire Ploutonion and wish to detain him by evening's end. He has backup arriving, but I need him alive. I don't care about the rest."

She lowered and pocketed the crystal.

"If you want a scene, it would be wise to leave some survivors. Unfortunately, I am not so keen on restraining myself against my enemies. I will give you a few moments to fight for your life."

Her eyes flashed. "And then I will claim it."

She disappeared from before him, though her aura still lingered in the nearby area.