NationStates Jolt Archive

Omzian Army Choir Hosts "Concert of Unsung Heroes"
Omzian IVP News

OSARIA (IVP) - After the sudden departure of the great nations of Hogsweat, Skinny, Praetonia, Sanctaphrax, and Sarzonia, the Omzian Army's Choir and Music Corps has announced that a concert will be hosted in the capital's Hall of the People's Heroes on Monday, in the memory of these nations - three of whom already departed from the world. The concert, dubbed the "Concert of Unsung Heroes", will be open to foreigners alike, and diplomats around the world are invited to attend the concert in the memory of these nations.

"These chain of events are indeed a shock to our world, but all things have an equal reaction," the Army's Choir and Music Corps Director, Senior Colonel Kolans Hagras, said in the press conference that announced this concert. "And our reaction to this unfortunate tragedy is to host a session where we can all celebrate their past presence on this world, along with grieving their departure. So this i our way of paying a tribute."

Specifics has not been announced, but it is expected that all two of the military's major bands and choirs - the Omzian Army Choir and Music Corps, and the Omzian Navy Choir and Band - will be performing over 20 music pieces during this ceremony. The ceremony will be closed to regular citizens, and only Omzian government personnel and foreign diplomatic personnel will be invited to attend.

"We certainly hope for a good turnout," the colonel remarked.

OOC: You are all welcome to RP guests, I suppose, since this is essentially a mourning thread. I know Praetonia's nation ICly isn't destroyed (yet), but you get the point why I'm hosting this.

The current state of this world is in turmoil, as many a great nations have givin in or been destroyed, and i will gladly attened.


Justin Scarfe, President, Willink

To: The Government of the Omzian Democratic Republic of Omz222
From: Kenix Kil, Secretary of State, the Democratic Imperium of Halberdgardia
Re: "Concert of Unsung Heroes"

The Democratic Imperium of Halberdgardia is deeply saddened by the tragic loss of so many lives and so much culture and history due to the loss of the nations of Hogsweat, Skinny87, Sanctaphrax, and Praetonia. To pay the respects due to fallen friends, I would be honored to attend the Concert of Unsung Heroes.

Respectfully,
Kenix Kil
Secretary of State
The Democratic Imperium of Halberdgardia

[OOC: I was actually listening to this song (http://www.sing365.com/music/lyric.nsf/Octavarium-lyrics-Dream-Theater/342F46AE9FDC7E724825701F00041981) when all these farewell threads started, and I thought that some of the lyrics were oddly appropriate, in case you're interested in them.]

You are doing the world a great deed by hosting this concert. By your hospitality, I accept with gratitude your invitation to the Concert of Unsung Heroes. If possible, I would like to bring along my wife, Quintia, Minister for International Relations, Cornelius Durantum, and my advisor and friend, Mundatus Veldaem.

Thank you,
Emperor Titus Celmaetus

[OOC: I was actually listening to this song (http://www.sing365.com/music/lyric.nsf/Octavarium-lyrics-Dream-Theater/342F46AE9FDC7E724825701F00041981) when all these farewell threads started, and I thought that some of the lyrics were oddly appropriate, in case you're interested in them.]
OOC: This is indeed interesting. Though the usual music pieces performed by the Omzian military resembles marches more rather than anything else (:p), perhaps I can have someone perform that song individually.

As a note, there's no need to RP all the actual departures and arrivals at the airports, so we can start off from drive from the airport itself, and eventually progress toward the actual concert.

Czarna, Czardas

Foreign Minister Alhoun reads the message, and frowns. "Hm, a concert. In Omz222. Ever heard of them?"

His assistant, Lorin Dax, looks up from his desk. "We've got plenty on the Omzian nation, yes. Our database is full of cross-references and a full-length entry."

"I see no reason why I shouldn't attend this," says Alhoun. "They're not our enemies, or allied with any of them. In fact, it wouldn't be a bad idea to open diplomatic contact in that quarter. Besides, it's for a good cause."

"That is true. We never interacted much with any of those nations, but we certainly knew about them."

"All right. I'll contact Karlsen and let him know that we're borrowing one of his planes."

---------------------

Several hours later

Foreign Minister Alhoun and Dax are among the leaders of the Czardaian delegation that heads into Krîaberg International Airport's Special Terminal that day. They cross the tarmac towards the small plane across the way. Security guards accompany them, although their presence is really not necessary. The Czardaians climb the stairs, speaking little.

The plane takes off from the airfield a few minutes later, zooming away until it is just a speck in the distance, heading for the Omzian capital.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
From: The Libertarian Concordance of Czardas
To: Omz222

We accept with gratitude your invitation and will certainly be present to honor these fallen nations. I will come with a delegation from Czardas, as all Czardaians tend to have a love of good music as well as an honorable spirit.

~Kari Alhoun, Czardaian Foreign Minister
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The loss of so many honorable nations, and for unknown reasons at that, is a cause for mourning across the world. We will forever grieve over the lost culture, history, and life. May the peoples of the world stand united in remembrance.

Sic transit gloria mundi. Salve Praetonia, salve Hogsweat, salve Sanctaphrax, salve Skinny.

I will personally attend this concert.

Alexei Saarad I
Sovereign Emperor of Malkyer

OOC- I must also point in that this, in my oppinon, at least, is the worst day in II history, i hope the moderators see how the banning of Hogsweat has effected the NS community deeply.

MP Government Statement:

People die every day. Many of them are never mourned. No one remembers them, no one tries. What the Omzian government is doing is mourning the forgetten. Maybe those that died were unimportant, low and altogether useless, but they perished together with the greatest of what this world had to offer. What the Omzian government doing is something of great importance.

Never let the dead be forgotten.

ooc: This is bascially saying "I'm in."

[OOC: Unfortunately, Willink, I honestly don't think the mods will give a damn who leaves because of Hogsweat's deletion, and there's something wrong with that, in my opinion.]

Kir Kanos International Airport, Washington, D.C., Halberdgardia, 1000 Local Time

The Gulfstream which Secretary of State Kenix Kil used for all diplomatic trips lifted off the tarmac, carrying a sole somber passenger. Inside, Kil stared out the window, melancholy, as the craft made its way towards the capitol of Omz222. Under any other circumstances, Kil would have been happy to hear that his friend Alexei Saarad was attending, but he could muster up no joy. How could he, when the world was losing some of its greatest nations?

"We are very sorry for what happened, and while I personally never have met these nations before, we realize their loss is important. Many nations are being lost in this world today and chaos is looming. While we prefer action to help end this dreadful event, we will arrive at the concert. If we can't bring back the dead, at least let remember them."

When viewed from the empty expanse of asphalt a measurable distance away, the Hongaz Omazee International Airport seemed like only a mesh of light, devoid of the metallic architecture it had been always so proud of, free of the reflective glass panels that exhibited the busy routines of the airport, day or light. As with the capital, normally it would only be open to authorized citizens, government workers, military officers and men, and a selected few foreign diplomats; but this is not the case now. Thunderous roars boomed across the thin autumn air of the Osaria outskirts, scraps of fast-moving air sweeping across the relative tranquility of the parking lots, which were illuminated brightly with a wide array of overhanging lights.

Below these lights, there sat a row of limos. Pitch black, armoured limos that sported little flags of the Omzian Republic, and those of an assortment of foreign nations. Inside these elegant shells of composites and advanced alloys, there simply sat empty air. Even the drivers were not to be seen, for they have decided to spend the boredom of waiting on something more meaningful.

And so there is Lieutenant Commander Joran Hoganskie, Omzian Forces Navy, outside of a limo that bore the flags of Omz and Halberdgardia. He is a rapidly aging man of 42 years of age, his quickly thinning hair barely covering any part of his scalp. He drew a heavy breath from his lungs and the void of his heart - a vacuum left by the great shock of the recent events - and spoke. "What about you?"

The other one looked up, and too drew a breath of air, almost methodically. The parade uniform that he wore indicated him as an officer of rank, a Wing Commander Joranskie. "Wing Commander now, fifty-five-four wing. Used to be a squadron commander during the Yasmarea campaign. The Skinnys were good chaps, I'm telling you. I can't believe they suddenly perished like this," he said and shook his head. "The whole world is crewed up, I tell you. Screwed up."

The talk between the navy and air force officers proved to be an interesting exhibit. An exhibit that is usually rare, perhaps due to interservice rivalry. But that didn't matter now - the already-hot rivalries were simply dwarfed by the great shocks of these recent events. Looking at the air force officer's car, which bore a flag of Czardas, he opened his mouth. "Destroyer officer here. Met the Hogsweatians through the exercise during that entire Feline Catfish ordeal. Nice guys, I must admit-"

But he was quickly cut short by a quick blurt from the headset that each wore so discreetly under the thinning darkness of the parking lot. "Alright, we've got diplomats inbound within a half hour. I can't believe you people are still not here, but hurry up. Get to the tarmac before 0500. Understood?"

The navy officer grasped the tiny microphone that had been tied to the headset, almost as if it would fall down. "Copy, sir. Out."

Both of the men understood, and each - almost with automation or some sorts - placed their respective navy and air force dress uniform caps on. Soon, the noises of engines, not talks out of empty hearts, once again filled the void of the empty air, just as a plane roared overhead, quite low, towards its destination.

OOC: Hal, email sent. Best to delete your email from your post from now on :p

Titus gazed at his own hands, not willing to look out the window. The plane's engine jolted and the entire plane straightened as it touched down in Osaria. The familiar G-force tugged at his torso as the plane skidded to a stop a bore a sharp left. The tarmac was skirted by blue lights and yellow signs that only pilots could decipher. This was his routine now; landing at distant airports and waiting for the tow. Only this time his gate was the tarmac, and he was ready for the saddening ordeal that bode ill emotions ahead of him.

Hongaz Omazee International Airport, Omz222

Some hours after its departure from Kir Kanos International, Kil's Gulfstream slammed down on the tarmac on Omzian soil. He waited for the pilot to taxi to the proper area, then descended the stairs.

"God damn this horrible day," he muttered to himself as he spotted some nearby limos and made his way towards them.

"Remind me again sir, why are we going? We were um...enemies with about all of them. And those we weren't were allied to our enemies."

"Have you not heard of honor, our enemies are seemingly dropping dead. This is probably celebrationg for Borman citiziens, but we must show honor and mourn their passing. Although I hated them...I'd grown rather accustomed to well, not liking them, and following up on them. And now I cant."
-------------------------------------------------
I shall attend this.

-Emperor Bhalk

I've got customer, Hoganskie noted to himself, grabbing the handles of the door that sat very closely by. Making sure that his medals and the diamonds on his shoulder boards are in place, he got out with a quickening pace, and exchanged smiling glances with Kir Kanos. "It is indeed delightful to see the leader of a very respectable nation, sir. I'm your driver, Lieutenant Commander Honganskie," he introduced himself as he saluted to the Halberdgardian president.

As he opened the doors of the limo with a nudge against certain buttons on a remote controlled switch that he carried in his pocket, he extended his right arm and gestured politely to the President, inviting him seemingly into the limo. After making sure that he sat, he clicked a tiny button on the microphone of his handset, twice in succession.

And two clicks came back. Acknowledged.

He entered the limo, and began to start the engine in a smooth fashion, hoping that the hybrid automobile would make little noise. Then, in the company of a motorcycle with two heavily-armed Navy Capital Defence Force guards onboard, he sped away from the tarmac onto a road nerby. Then a highway.

"We appreciate guests coming here, especially during this grim occasion," he driver said to the Halberdgardian trough the intercom in the limo. "I'm going to drive to the Hongaz Omazee Grand Hotel, which is in the city center, not far from the Hall of the People's Heroes. ETA within an hour. After the drive I will be your guide. Don't worry about safety concerns, as this is a closed government city. Any other concerns, address them to be. Thanks, and enjoy your ride."

OOC: Assume this is true with other guests as well. The actual concert won't start until the afternoon, and will go into the early morning of the next day; until then, the hotel provides a good place to recover from jetlag.

OOC: I cannot participate IC, but I would appreciate it if the Omzian army choir would play The Show Must Go On by Queen, at the request of an anonymous foreign dignitary.

[OOC: Just to clarify, Omz, it's Kenix Kil, and he's SecState. No biggie, though.]

"I'm honored that a nation such as the Omzian Democratic Republic would consider us a respectable country. I appreciate the compliment, Lieutenant Commander Hoganskie," Kil said, glancing briefly at the man's name badge.

Kil entered the limo, and sank back gratefully into the soft leather seats. To hell with decorum, he thought. The loss of so many fine nations, and the jet lag from the long flight, weighed heavily on him.

"I appreciate the ride to the hotel, Commander," Kil said. "I could use a little rest before attending the ceremony."

Titus set down his bags on the chest at the foot of a double king-size bed; it was finely dressed with delicate linens and a precisly-folded bedspread. His eyelids were heavy, but he had work to do. He switched on a nearby lamp and plugged in his power adapter for his powerbook. Once in Outlook Express, he pitched an email to the head of the IIB, typing in short, clipped, and tired sentences.

Lucilius-

I'm at the hotel in Osaria. The driver was courteus, and the Omzians have been hospitible so far. The concert's starting sometime in the afternoon, which would be early morning for you in Aredeth. Drop me a line when you get the chance.

-Titus

The roads of Osaria lay empty. Empty not as a result of widespread poverty nor near-extinction of private vehicles, but rather empty as in a pre-arranged absence of traffic, an empty bubble dedicated solely for the dignitaries whom are entering the city for this grand but bleak occasion. As the rows of limos and escorting motorcycles sped through the four lane roads in the middle of the capital, the row of buildings simply appeared as a flash of blurbs of colours to Hoganskie, now-indistinguishable colours that normally represented the pinnacle and zenith of Omzian architecture and engineering. Outside, public PA systems blared music, music that mourned the sudden disappearance of the aforementioned nations, nations with which the Omzian Republic had extensive relations. Under the posts that accommodated these loudspeakers and their accompanying security cameras, individuals - government workers and their families, in fact - strolled around with certain void within them. The whole nation is mourning.

As Hoganskie continued his steadfast driving, in harmony with the equally rapid transit of the motorcycles front and aft of his limo, they began to converge into the city center itself as the Hall of the People's Heroes slowly appeared into Hoganskie's field of vision, identifying itself with its distinctive features almost as fast as it had appeared. A building decorated in the colours of bronze in the form of expensive marbles, strong concrete, shiny metal frameworks, and sparkling reflective glass, it simply appeared as another blurb to Hoganskie, partly due to the speed that the limo is traveling at, and partly due to his intense concentration on the mission at hand. However, he did notice the huge portrait of Hongaz Omazee - the National Founder and the Eternal President of the Republic - but this time it was accompanied by something else. Flags of the nations that have fell victim to the disastrous fate that became all to common to anyone who paid any attention to news and current events. Flags that are much less common now, flags that reminded one not the present, but the past. Flags that represented history, not existence.

But Hoganskie chose not to think much about it as to divert his train of thought from the intended track it is traveling on, and opted to continue his ever-increasing concentration on the drive. Not too long later, he finally parked his limo on a broad carpet front of the massive, majestic doors of the hotel, the glass - standing rigidly on the marble base that also made up the floor - adorned with gold framings. After both the Lieutenant Commander and the senior Halberdgardian diplomat made their exit from the limo, another uniformed officer - this time one from the People's Armed Police - made his way to the limo, and drove it away as fast as it had come.

Once entering the hotel and proceeding into the lobby, the Lieutenant Commander proceeded to the information desk, and simply showed his digital identification card to the receptionist in the form of a swipe against the surfaces of a slot. Afterwards, he proceeded back towards Kenix Kil, and smiled, gesturing towards the direction of a row of elevators.

"I will now direct you to your room, sir. I certainly hope that you will enjoy the sight - it is after all, on the eighty-fifth floor. We had come a bit early," he said as he flashed a glance at his watch, which displayed 06:32, "But that shouldn't matter much anyways. Afterwards, hopefully you'll have another eight hours of rest, before preparatory work to ready the concert so it officially begins at five-thirty P.M."

OOC: So far, both Halberdgardia's and Relative Liberty's requests for custom music to be performed in the concert are accepted, in which we will have individual members of the military choir and band, in addition to civilian bands, performing it.

Nistolonia salutes you for your actions in these turbulent times. Our foreign relations minister will be there for the concert.

OOC- Im kinda late, not in the mood right now for posting (too annoyed/sad)
EDIT- Screw it, ill post now.

IC- Justin's Leerjet touched down at the Hongaz Omazee International Airport. The flight was average, but A heavyness rested on those on the plane, as Scarfe had just witnessed 3 close nations, friends, reduced to nothing. He quicky left the plane and was ushered to a waiting limo, rather behind scedule. He hurried into the seat, and relaxed.

"It is certainly most gratifying for us to receive your attendance, President Scarfe," the driver of the limo, a Lieutenant Colonel of the Army, nodded with a smile and greeted the President as he entered the car, quite delightful that he had been chosen for this arduous task. A task that he never dreamed of; yet, a task in the most extraordinary of circumstances. Closing the door by remote control, he sent the signal to the escorting motorcycles with two consecutive clicks, which - as predicted on the basis of regular routine - was answered back with another two clicks.

"You've arrived here just on schedule, Mr. President. Not a minute late yet not a minute early. I'd imagine that the airport is quite busy now, definitely, so you've arrived just at the right time," he remarked during the drive on the broad highways leading into Osaria, after completing the usual self-introduction required from him. He would pass a checkpoint soon, the last checkpoint that sat between the vehicle and the vast expanse of urban structure that is known as Osaria Government City.

Office of the Prime Minister, the Citadel
Imperium, Republic of New Britain

The late afternoon sun came crashing through the western-facing windows of Alistair Tetley’s office. He dared not look to the west for fear of blindness, and so concentrated on the paperwork on his desk. In a span of only twenty-four hours, the world had become unsettled – and more than just the typical newly formed rogue nation waving their sticks around. No, in twenty-four hours the nations of Hogsweat, Skinny87, Praetonia, Sanctaphrax, and now Sarzonia had all but disappeared from international affairs. Of course, there had been only minimal contact between those states and His Majesty’s Government – with the recent exception of Sarzonia. Yet, their absence would create certain power vacuums that would prompt bitter conflicts, either militarily or diplomatically, after the requisite time for mourning and remembrance.

The truth of the matter, for the United Kingdom at least, was that the absence of all the above nations except Sarzonia would matter little. No trade ties, no mutual defence agreements, no even cultural exchanges. Only Skinny87 had once had an ambassador, an ambassador now presumed dead within the wasteland once known as Skinny87. The only state that truly mattered was that of Sarzonia.

It was that government that had for so long now bitterly opposed the United Kingdom’s application to the Union of World Powers, and which had made so vocal an opposition to the Kingdom’s annexation of Novikov. Truth be told, Tetley was secretly glad to see that Sarzonian opposition removed – but this was of course not a time for politics, but for remembrance of those who had been courageous enough to face their own mortality.

Throughout the afternoon, Tetley had been arguing with his Chief of Staff about whether or not to attend the concert in Omz, with Heath claiming that any visit in honour of Sarzonia would do nothing but weaken the position of the Prime Minister at home in Parliament, if not in the international court of politics. Of course, Heath was right. Any visit by Tetley to Omz would be political suicide, certainly on a domestic level. Internationally, the animosity between the Sarzonians and Azazians would surely be forgiven and glossed over in light of the tragedy, but not so with the fickle Azazian citizenry. And so, he now sat with a pen in hand, ready to sign the document.

Open Letter to the Omzian Government

In honour of those individuals who have given the ultimate sacrifice, or been the unfortunate victim of chance and bad timing, His Majesty’s Government has prepared a delegation to attend the concert for which you have so graciously extended an invitation. Due to domestic concerns, I am not able to personally attend the concert, but I shall send in my stead my Deputy Prime Minister, Hillary Rousseau, who will be the representative of His Majesty’s Government and the United Kingdom of Azazia.

This is a solemn day not only for the United Kingdom, but for all of humanity, and with that thought in mind, I would like to offer my personal thanks to the Omzian government for hosting an appropriate memorial service for those nations and their respective citizens who contributed so humbly, and yet so importantly to the consciousness of this entire world.

Sincerely,

Alistair Tetley
Prime Minister

Open Message to All Accepting Nations

Indeed, while with great suddenness and sadness these unfortunate events has led to the demise of the aforementioned nations, we are equally astounded by the sheer support exhibited by nations around the globe - allies, friends, and even adversaries alike - for our campaign to pay tribute to these great nations whose populations are now all but nameless souls and martyrs, buried in unmarked graves that now dots the scarred lands that were their respective nations. We are also equally gratified by these nations' appreciation for our initiative to undertake this endeavour, as we feel that this would be the best and most meaningful method to celebrate the footprints that they had set on this world, and to honour their memories. Likewise, we must thank all nations who have decided to accept our invitation.

Before the initiation of this event however, please allow us to provide a basic outline of the event itself. The concert - which will be attended by foreigners, members of the Omzian government and Foreign Ministry, the whole thousands-men-strong Omzian Navy Flag Staff, and the members of the Omzian Forces High Command - will begin at exactly five-thirty PM, in the Hall of the People's Heroes. Inversely, it is expected to end at around two to four the next morning. It will begin with a keynote address by the Omzian President itself, and will be followed on by a fifteen minutes moment-of-silence, in the memory of the billions of people wiped out in this great catastrophe. Afterwards, foreign diplomats and dignitaries are invited to deliver their own speeches and addresses if so desired. A short banquet will be then hosted, before the concert is resumed.

Following this, the actual concert will occur - a total of twenty-six different music pieces will be played by the Omzian Army and Navy choirs and bands. Afterwards, additional individual pieces will be played by members of the Omzian civilian band "RZeroes", and by individual members of the military choir. A keynote address by Field Marshal Hogan, Supreme Director of the Omzian Forces High Command, will be delivered in conclusion of the concert.

We hope that this arrangement is suitable for the foreign diplomats and dignitaries invited; if not, please address your concerns immediately to the Omzian Foreign Ministry's Foreign Office.

Titus had always prided himself in writing his own speeches, and this day was no exception. He was primed to write the most heartfelt speech that his mind could offer. As the digital numbers on the clock approached 6:45, and the first cleansed light of dawn filtered through the white linen drapes that sheathed the window, he punched in the first letters of the introduction to his address.

Several hours earlier (Sorry about that, RL intruded)

The Czardaian delegation is one of the last to arrive, considering Czardas's great distance from the Omzian Democratic Republic. Foreign Minister Alhoun and the group behind him exit the plane and make their way towards the waiting limousines, of which very few are left by now.

"I'm surprised that you people had the patience to wait for us, but there's not all too much we can do to move our nation a little bit closer," says Alhoun to the person standing in front of the car with the Czardaian flag.

The group enters the car, which drives off towards the city.

Somewhere far above the departing car, a bird circles and descends slightly, then follows it, wheeling through the twilight sky.

Morning

As the announcement had stated, each of the diplomats was invited to give a speech. Kari Alhoun intends to be no exception. He is known best for his impromptu speeches, generally full of the sarcasm all Czardaians are known for. Alhoun tries to make his speeches interesting and against all clichés. He doesn't always succeed, but he's got an idea. All it takes is an index card...

OOC: Just posting that I'm reading this, I don't have the drive for any IC post today, so just pretend that my Sectratary of States Kara Maddox is there ok?

In the four major cities of Kahanistan, the Imperial Marines assigned to the city played the ancient melody, "Taps," in honor of Hogsweat and its allies. Outside the city, most tuned to the Omzian choir on their bases' TV sets.

In the capital city, the President himself issued a rare speech eulogizing the destroyed nations. He brought tears to even the most hardened of the Imperial Marines.

Hours Earlier...earlier..
Foreign Minister Vassily Petrovich Sergetov, Defense Minister Nikita Eduardovich Zhukov, Chairman of the CSE Boris Ivanovich Shaposhnikov, and Minister of Internal Affairs Kliment Vyacheslavich Beria all arrived in a military motorcade. The four men dressed in black three-piece, woolen suits and somber ties exited their vehicles, leaving the small contingent of the Peoples' Army Honor Guard outside. They strided towards their awaiting limousine. They provided curt nods to their counterparts as they entered the vehicle. Tucked beneath the Foreign Minister's black-banded arm was a speech that he intended to deliver in memory of the nation of Hogsweat.

As Bhalk sat down into the limo for Borman he told the driver of several musical ideas he had come up with on his flight here.

"You know Cinderella's 'Don't Know What You Got Till It's Gone' would work quite well. And Def Leppard's 'Gods of war' would work well too. I could keep going on, but i'll stop there."

Kil thanked Lieutenant Commander Hoganskie again for his hospitality, stepped on to one of the elevators, took it up on to the eighty-fifth floor, and located his room. It was a plush VIP suite with a spectacular view of Osaria, just as Hoganskie had promised.

Kil set his briefcase down on a nearby desk, and then collapsed on to the bed. He laid there for some moments, staring at the ceiling, unable to move, as though he were momentarily paralyzed. He felt grief as though he'd lost a family member; his brain refused to accept the fact that upwards of at least eight billion people had died this day.

Finally, he willed himself to get up. He walked over to the alarm, set it for 4:00 P.M., then stripped to his boxers and crawled underneath the sheets of the bed. He was asleep within moments.

OOC: I'll keep this open until tomorrow (partly to have some more people taking interest in this, and partly because I really don't have the feeling to write anything particular in IC right now) - then we can get to the concert part. As always, both allies/friends and adversaries/oh-not-so-friendly are welcomed, and ideas for custom music, etc. will be accepted.

In the face of dangerous oppression, we must serve to rebel. In that, and in honour of my fallen compatriots who were defeated only by the misallocation of intelligence across the world, Pacitalian government officials, of all ages, races and creeds would be honoured to attend the concert. It's the least we can do, to repay the debts that we have created just by having the privilege of being friends to these fallen nations.

Dr. Timotaio (Timothy) Ell
Prime Minister of Pacitalia

Communiqué from His Majesty, King Henry V

To Our Honoured Friends and Allies of the Omzian Democratic Republic,

In commiseration for the loss of some of our dearest friends, the Royal Family, Prime Minister Geoffrey Middleton, and Foreign Minister Sir George Fredericks shall attend this glorious concert. We, all of us in the UKIN, wish to salute the memories of those great nations in the best way we know how.

Your humble servant,

HM the King, Henry V

"Chaos and disorder... endemic panic as populations incinerate... this is truly unique news." Director Kerrik tapped his PDA, his eyes narrowing. "Troubling, even. So many good nations... one single moment of split infinity and they are gone. Ours is a troubled world, where time and space bends entire peoples from the face of reality. Let us only hope this will not spread further, and let us mourn the loss of so many great nations."

"Sir?"

"Send our condolences, and keep it professional." And the brilliant man turned back to the setting sun outside his window, placing a single hand against the glass. No one heard him mouth the words, "Farewell." or the slight tug on his upper lip. But perhaps, at least people might know, somewhere far beyond...

OOC: In my own little way, I bid farewell to a group of great RPers and boons to this board. While I don't have time to join the RP, this is my stamp of acknowledgement of their passing, and the hope that they will return to these boards in the future.

Official Communique of The Freethinker Commonwealth

Dear Sir,

I am proud to see the Omzian nation hosting such a fine event in memory of the many great nations which has so recently departed our realm. I feel most glad that someone has taken the time and energy to ensure that their names and legacies of these unequalled realms will not be forgotten. We will honour their memories in our own way but we will ensure that we support this event as much as possible. Our duty to our friends, our allies, to the nations that we knew as good and kind and a credit to humanity and the world.

So we raise a glass to them and you, and I myself will make the journey to your fair land. I hope that such arrangements are possible. You rest assured the concert will be broadcast throughout our nation and its dependencies, one last final act of unity and rememberence. These nations have my salute, and you, sir, have my utmost respect and admiration. I wish you luck and godspeed.

Strength, Courage, Honour, Unity

Sir Theodore J. Barham
Prime Minister of the Freethinker Commonwealth