Jan. 1st, 2024 12:04 am
nex: Grungy black and white converse against a worn persian rug. (Default)
This is the journal of photographs taken by a man called Hector in a post-apocalypse world, that has come to be called the NEX lands.

Sims and lot downloads found at the bottom of their photo entries. WCIFs welcome, but check the contest list first.

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Introduction: Hector

Residential Lots:

Behind... )

Non-Residential Lots:

Below... )


Beyond... )
nex: Pale blonde male + female twins, male leaning on his sister, she stroking a hand through his hair, both looking away (Alabaster & Ivory)
After I stayed with Ivan and his twins, he allowed me to get some shots of the house they lived in for my records. It was in surprisingly good condition, and the fact is was homey only added to the unnerving sense of the situation.

We can never go home, we no longer have one... )

{Aerial 1, 2}
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nex: Pale blonde male + female twins, male leaning on his sister, she stroking a hand through his hair, both looking away (Alabaster & Ivory)
This is Ivan. How I came to document Ivan is a strange story.

Night had fallen and I hadn't found refuge. This is not uncommon, I often ride through the night. It is not a good idea to stay still in the open at night in most places. I was in an area that had once been an everyday street of detached and semi-detached houses somewhere east of Birmingham. I was listening out for sounds of life, when I encountered it right there in front of me. A girl in a hooded parka stood in the middle of the street blocking my way. She had heavy boots on but nothing on her bare legs below the coat, and a shotgun unloaded under her arm. She didn't brandish it at me, merely waited for me to come to a stop several feet from her.

"My daddy has a place you can let your horse rest." she said, voice very soft. "Daddy says you should stay at our house tonight, because the Howlers are out."

She led me along the street, down an alley beside a house and into a forgotten back garden, and to a large shed with hay strewn around that looked as if it had been used as a makeshift barn before. I left Thorn with water and feed before the girl escorted me out the shed, padlocking it behind us. She led me back down the alley and into the next house's front garden, which was expectedly overgrown. The windows of the house were boarded up, and all looked dark inside. She knocked a pattern on the door, and I saw a light go on in the porch.

It got strange from here.

I held a falling star and it wept for me, dying... )
[adult/sensitive themes in prose]

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nex: Grungy black and white converse against a worn persian rug. (Default)
Gladys lives with her granddaughter Lucy in an abandoned pool. For most of the war there had been three women together; Lucy's mother, Gladys' daughter, who succumbed to illness a few months ago. It was a blow to the family. Gladys, a reluctant matriarch, suffers her own ailments as she watches her grandchild's failed attempts to thrive in the new world.

I Cannot Leave Here, I Cannot Stay... )

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nex: Grungy black and white converse against a worn persian rug. (Default)
I travelled through a city that was in ruins. There was life occasionally, but the eyes of the people were sunken and dead. It became clear that diseased had ripped through this part during the war, and it had been abandoned to fester on it's own. I came across a residence made in a dried up, abandoned pool. A woman and her granddaughter had made their home there, and were kind enough to give me what shelter they could from an incoming storm and let me photograph their home.

It leaked somewhat, even after they had put plastic sheeting over the top of the exposed pool as a makeshift roof. It was cold and damp, but it looked liked some expert hands had hijacked several of the pipes in the poolside to create plumbing. I asked about looters, but it became clear there was nothing they had worth stealing, and they too had to go out every day to forage for foodstuffs.

It was miserable.

The Sun Has Stagnated Somewhere Beyond the Horizon... )

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Issues: Semi-Unplayable: 'moveobjects on' required to get sims into the lot. Not weather-proof. Roofing (ingame awning) shown in pictures not included in lot download (otherwise it would be completely unplayable).
Cost: $11,430
nex: Grungy black and white converse against a worn persian rug. (Default)

Everyone was left scared by the last war. Not a single soul went without some mark that showed they had been affected by the conflict. Whether it is the smallest scar on their knee from falling as they fled from their city, or a brand burnt into the skin of their face for defying local militia, everyone has a scar and a story. Mine is a missing third finger on my right hand, after the digit was crushed and left useless when my office building was bombed at the start of the war.

I am still not completely sure why that building was targeted. We were a small newspaper running out of London with a minor circulation, and the only thing I could think that made us a target were some articles refuting claims of global warming, from our staple slightly-kooky right-wing columnist.

We were wrong to doubt.

The world went to shit in just five years. The first domino was the changing weather; that bought droughts and flood and in 2019 40% of the world's crops were decimated. The west rationed; the developing world starved. Feeding people and farming animals became impossible; one industry after another fell. Civil unrest became civil war, disease killed millions, obliterating struggling nations to dregs of their former populations, and countries closed their borders. In some places the most extreme political leaders were able to gain power in the panic, while in others anarchy reigned, but in some pockets the people rejected the clamour for nationalism and looked to the leaders they had previously dismissed; the most radically liberal, the environmental lobby – in many places they were the only parties who wanted to continue trying to form government and order, while traditional political factions had quickly disbanded as each politician turned inwards and embraced the selfishness of individual survival.

The war ended in 2023, leaving an unrecognisable world. It was as if we had been relegated to ancient history, before wide reaching discovery of other continents and before sea trades. Cities began to function independently, as best as they could. Only the smallest countries have maintained a central government, but they are crippled.

I didn’t stay in London. I didn’t stay anywhere for long, after the war ended. I had nothing to stay there for, and no surviving family or lover to keep me anchored. I travelled, and I documented what I found. It was the only thing keeping out the enclosing blackness of new world I had found myself in. This is the collection of images from the world between civilisation and oblivion; these are the stories of the NEX lands.

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nex: Grungy black and white converse against a worn persian rug. (Default)
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