As I awoke from a lengthy nap the other day, in the house nestled at the bottom of the ridge in Caledon Downs, I heard a sound nearby, as though someone were engaged in heavy construction. After throwing off my dressing gown and getting decently dressed, I ventured outside, prepared to meet a new neighbor.
What I saw instead was a monstrous house, with much glass constructed as though a number of cubes were stacked on top of and next to one another (a style that, I am told by those who can foretell the future, will be popular in the 1960s). This house was resting precariously on an outcropping next to Miss Audrey Fotherington's property and poised directly over Rhianon's house, the one I was currently occupying.
I climbed the hill, intending to give the builder - clearly a squatter on Commonwealth land - a piece of my mind when he disappeared, leaving behind his ugly house and possessions. [OOC note: the owner of the prims - or the perp, as I think of him - was over 500 days old, plenty old enough to know better. He had logged out when he saw me coming.] In no time at all, I had been joined by a number of Caledonians interested in seeing just how awful styles in the future would be. Miss Garnet Psaltery, Miss Gwynna Cleanslate, Mr. Alastair Whybrow, Mr. Roy Smashcan, and Mr. Jorge Serapis all gathered on that hill, kindly providing companionship and support as I stared at the building. Mr. Whybrow noted that the house and furnishings were occupying more than 500 prims, nearly a good-sized piece of jewelry for him!
Mr. Serapis, though not an Estate Manager, nonetheless had some powers that were beyond those of a mere citizen, and was able to send the house and its contents back to whatever hell they came from while the rest of us cheered him on. His assistance was gratefully appreciated. [As it turned out, some of the house rested on Miss Fotherington's property, leaving it beyond the reach of Mr. Serapis and his talents. I left Miss Fotherington a note, and she gleefully returned the rest of the build when she was next in-world.]
Mr. Serapis' day was not yet done, however, as he had heard of or seen a property in the Downs with ban lines around it. Ban lines, of course, are prohibited by the Covenant and are a severe navigational hazard to airships. He found the property adjacent to Miss Falcon's chess board. We followed him to observe the amazing sight:
Mr. Bander Mynx owns the property and the structure below, a two-story-plus-garret house apparently built for giants, and complete with Gorean slave cage.
Mr. Mynx returned home about that time [No doubt hearing some of the discussion on ISC chat. :) ] He was unaware that he had restricted access to the property, and the situation was quickly resolved. Still, one has to wonder what would prompt someone (of under 3 months age) to purchase a dwelling such as this one, including the slave cage. One would think that, at the very least, the Catgirl Brigade might be amused to use the house as target practice.
Did the Guvnah put up new signs that advertised Caledon as the perfect spot for a bit of light Victorian slave roleplay? Or is the sign smudged so that "Victorian" now looks like "Gorean"?
This too shall pass...