Monday, 22 December 2014

Train wreck

[Originally posted on Ello on 19 October, 2014]

When I decided to buy my first piece of virtual land in Second Life, I wanted it to be on the mainland. Having previously lived in rentals, more or less private and rather isolated, I wanted things to be more realistic - even if that meant dealing with unfriendly neighbours and their crazy builds or having less privacy. What I also wanted was to be close to the railway tracks and have good access to a public road, as driving cars and trains is something I’ve enjoyed doing very much in SL.

I found my land by chance, TPing from one random for-sale parcel to another. It had everything I needed, and then some more: good price, ocean on its eastern side, railway tracks immediately to the west. Various eyesores on the neighbouring parcels I decided I could live with. In the meantime, I’ve acquired more land, some adjoining that original parcel, developed and changed it several times over, but my home has stayed on that original parcel with very little changes to it. There are no banlines or security orbs, I have very little privacy (not that I actually need it), and yet that’s the place I feel completely safe and comfortable in when I’m inworld.

Last night as I teleported home, I heard unusual noise, quite loud. First I thought my peculiar pony-neighbours were doing something fishy, but as I was walking towards the house, I realized the sound was coming from somewhere on my land. I was wondering, has my friend Duncan rezzed something weird again to spook me? Having survived his spiders, giant crabs and strategically placed pieces of poo, I was wondering what this might be. As it was dark, I had to change the daylight settings to see what was actually going on. It was quite a shocker: it turned out a big train somehow derailed and collided with my kitchen wall. The scene was so funny, I had to take a few snapshots before returning the train to its owner.

I know, quite silly and not such a nail-biting story, but it made me laugh. Incidents like these are one of the reasons I enjoy living on the mainland.