self_composed | all rise

all rise

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.

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[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"?]

[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.]

Edited 2012-09-30 16:41 (UTC)

[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.]

[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?]

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

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

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

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

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

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

[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.]

[That'd be fun. I mean, I doubt I'll ever care, but it'd be fun.]

[So you'll never take it into your head to have a flat of live chicks delivered to your door just so you can make weird remarks that make the delivery person wonder what in God's name you're liable to do with them?] Bella inquires.

...He cracks up.

[Well, it seems like the kind of thing that might amuse you, and requires an address.]

[It totally would! Maybe I'll have some delivered to you.]

[No sending weird purchases to my dorm,] Bella says. [I have no use for a few dozen baby chickens.]

[What if I do it while you're not there and then I take them away and clean up after them?]

[Then my roommate or my sorority sisters or the RA or whoever will wonder why you are skulking about my room with infant birds, Alice, and then I have to explain you.]

He cracks up again.

[This is looking more hilarious the more I think about it.]

[I'd really rather you didn't make me explain you too much. You're kind of inexplicable. If you're just around sometimes I can say "he's my friend from high school who visits a lot, he visited me when I was recuperating from being hit by a car, y'know" but if you're trying to use my room as a base of operations for on-grid pranks that's a slightly different matter.]

[I am very inexplicable,] he says happily. [But okay.] No baby bird deliveries to Bella's doorstep.

[Very inexplicable indeed,] Bella says fondly. Pet pet pet.

Awwwwww. Alice leans against the edge of her bed and indulges in some snuggly happy feelings.

It's been enough of a long day that Bella goes ahead and dives into that tempting feedback loop.

Tomorrow there will be more things to do.

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edgeofyourseat - 2012-09-30 17:24 (UTC) - Expand

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