all rise

[self_composed]

No plea bargain is struck. The jury is picked, and Lucinda asks a few random ones whether they have accepted bribes and sees who looks nervous: no one, as it turns out, so she strikes people who are too young to have children and one fellow who looks like he hates the entire world for her picks. Paul strikes a grandmotherly type and someone who admits when asked that they don't think much of rich people.

"All rise," comes the command as Judge Roberts walks in.

Comments

[self_composed]

[Congratulations,] Bella says, encountering a tangle in Alice's hair and picking at it absently. [What's next for you, d'you think?]

[edgeofyourseat]

[Might move back into the house,] he theorizes idly. [Some of the time, anyway.] His lair is spotless and beautiful and he intends to keep it that way, and he also loves spending time there; but, on the other hand, now he can hang out with Hilary doing domestic things whenever he wants. Awesome.

[self_composed]

[So you expect your mom's going to keep Hilary on, then?]

[edgeofyourseat]

[Yeah, they get along pretty well. Dunno about Theo. Nobody really likes Theo.]

[self_composed]

[I would be pretty surprised if Theo kept his job, at least presuming your mom knows how to drive.]

[edgeofyourseat]

[Hell, Hilary can drive. And Mom can learn. Maybe I will, too.]

[self_composed]

[Hilary had better get a raise,] Bella remarks. [If she's going to take Theo's job.]

[edgeofyourseat]

[Well, if it doesn't happen, complain to Mom, not me. Unless you want me to start paying her, since I am now three millionaires.]

[self_composed]

Bella snickers. [Millionairehood doesn't stack that way. You are one millionaire who could spend two million dollars without ceasing to be one. You're gonna need to set up a bank account and get a - well, maybe not a credit card, unless you want to commit to living somewhere where you'll reliably receive mail for the foreseeable future. A debit card.]

[edgeofyourseat]

Alice immediately starts internally debating whether he would rather pentagon himself normal adult financial skills or dump the whole mess, three million dollars included, on Bella. It's a close race.

[self_composed]

Bella decides not to have any input on this decision.

She's finished picking the tangle loose and goes back to ordinary petting. Pet pet pet.

[edgeofyourseat]

It's not like he actually needs three million dollars for anything. On the other hand, it's conceivable that someday he might. On the other other hand, his mom is still going to be mega rich, and maybe now she'll let him touch real money... but then he's back at square one with the needing a bank account. Screw it. He burns a pentagon.

[self_composed]

Pat pat. [Any interesting magical insights into finance I should know about?]

[edgeofyourseat]

He is momentarily distracted by petting. Mm, petting.

[Not yet,] he says. [But now I know how bank accounts work, so that's handy.]

[self_composed]

[While you seem unlikely to burn through three million dollars in a hurry in any of the usual ways - since magicking yourself up whatever you want is probably always going to be easier - I can also see you blowing most or all of it on some things, if you wanted to hire a bunch of people or do something else that had to involve actual money. Do you know something about how to lock it up in illiquid growing investments so that's harder to do, or did the pentagon just handle "this is how bank accounts work"?]

[edgeofyourseat]

[Nope, that was entirely comprehensible. But what if I really want to - you know what, I can't even think of anything I could use a million dollars for. Buy a really awesome house? I like my lair better.]

[self_composed]

[You need money to be on the grid, basically. People can't visit your lair, besides me, without special invitation - you cannot receive mail there, it cannot appear as your address on paperwork. You need money to buy services, even if you can magic your way around the need for most of them. You need money to occupy any space that exists for other people - you could make a pocket dimension apartment-lair in the middle of New York City by hexing a thirteenth floor into existence in a building that doesn't have one or wherever, but for it to be safe secrecy-wise to have anyone over but me, you'd need to actually pay for an apartment. I don't know if that's ever going to be particularly important to you, but it could.]

[edgeofyourseat]

[Guess so,] he muses. [Ooh, pocket dimensions. Hey, I wonder if I could make a lair that's, like, New York out one door and Forks out another? Anything in your book about stuff like that?]

[self_composed]

[No, but that strikes me as probably within hex range, per door,] Bella remarks.

[edgeofyourseat]

[Cool,] he says cheerfully. [Maybe I'll do that.]

[self_composed]

[New York was just an example. Although I could wind up going to Columbia,] Bella muses.

[edgeofyourseat]

[You go wherever you wanna. I'll stick a door to my lair somewhere nearby.]

[self_composed]

[Maybe it will normally open to, like, a broom closet, unless you think a certain password,] Bella suggests.

[edgeofyourseat]

[Or it just won't exist for anybody but us.]

[self_composed]

[I suppose. You'll still be off the grid. After a certain age landlords expect you to have renting history. I'm going to live on campus for at least the first couple of years in college - for the social life; I don't think I can network as effectively from farther away, I might even have to join a sorority. But after that you could be my roommate-on-paper, I guess.]