I don't have a channel, hence no crib (and if I ever did in-game channel RP, I'd be inclined to make up a three-liner based on the context), but this topic made me think about my 'home' for the first couple of years in EVE. I never planned it out in detail, which gives me the liberty to adjust it to my story needs, but over time an outline did form in my mind.
As result, I wrote a post specifically to put that outline into words (it is still fuzzy, but more defined than it was at the beginning), and discovered along the way that Druur is not living in some grand mansion or similar. While her quarters are unaffordable for baseliners, they are still just rented quarters on a station.
You can read the whole post here
here, but the salient parts for the purpose of this thread are below. The backstory is that after a long time away, Druur returns to her original 'home', and essentially rediscovers it.
The elevator moved with a smoothness that belied its speed - if it weren't for numbers on the level display counting down rapidly, you could have thought you weren't moving at all. Even the deceleration as the elevator approached its destination was announced with only the barest of the faintest shudders. You didn't arrive in these elevators, instead you were simply suddenly there.
With a melodious *ding* the elevator door opened, and I stepped out onto the permanent quarters level of this Creodron station. Tastefully designed, subdued decor, plush carpet, an open bar, and again this was just the hallway!
A short walk brought me to the entrance to my actual quarters, the electronic lock glowing a reassuring red. A swipe of my keycard, the color changed to green, and latches disengaging internally. The door recessed a few centimeters, and then slid sideways out of the way with a grace and speed belying its actual weight.
I stepped inside, and the door slid close behind me, moving almost inaudibly on its gears. Triggered by my entrance, the room lighting came on, starting with the fixtures nearest to me, the others following one by one, as if I was standing in an expanding bubble of light.
Technically this staggered activation wasn't necessary, but I had found the effect so cool that I had even added to it the sound of circuit breakers engaging.
The air had the sterile cleanliness of a quarter long unused, modern day air scrubbing having become so effective that unused station quarters were signified by a total absence of dust, not an excess.
I let my gaze wander across the room, taking in its familiar features which I hadn't seen for quite some time. The couch, with the side tables, just in the right position across the viewing screen. My little workplace, terminal dark and quiet, an overturned picture frame next to it. Shelves, now mostly empty, except for a few mementos. A bar unit, currently retracted safely into the wall. Off in a side room, the kitchen, although primarily used to make coffee or tea, or breakfast. A doorway leading to the bedroom. And somewhere one or two other rooms, which I hadn't used much. It's these front rooms where my life had taken place.