NationStates Jolt Archive

Consular Office
Aedifices Parliamentarii
Kensington, British Londinium
2100 hours

The opulant and aesthetic Consular Office was dark. Only the lights of Kensington filtering through the large glass wall behind Sir Alistair's desk cast a shadowy light on the slim frame of the Consul. He held in his hand a small photograph of his late wife, Victoria, rubbing its gold frame tenderly with his hand. A single tear fell from his normally stern face onto the picture.

The wooden door opened a crack, and a young, red-haired woman poked her head into Sir Alistair's lair. "Excuse me, sir, I'll be leaving for the nigh-" She stopped upon taking a cursory look at the Consul. "Sir, what's wrong?"

"Nothing!" he snarled, throwing the picture into a corner of the room. "Absolutely nothing, Liz."

The secretary opened the door, and casually flicked a nearby light switch. She carefully walked to Sir Alistair's desk, gingerly taking a seat. "Mr Davidson - Alistair - it's okay to admit that you're recovering from your wife's death."

"Weakness," Sir Alistair replied contemptuously. "That's one word that has yet to enter my vocabulary." But, in all reality, it was a daily struggle for Sir Alistair to maintain the facade of invincibility; Victoria was one of the few people in the world that helped give him the strength to do so.

"We're all human, from secretaries to consuls, sir," Liz replied sadly. "You needn't beat yourself up like this."

"Very well," Sir Alistair said. "I won't keep you any longer, Liz."

"As you wish, Consul," she replied as she left the room.

Darkness once more enveloped the room. Sir Alistair slowly opened his desk drawer, withdrawing a SIG P220 pistol. He had originally got it right after the Cazelian incident, when various individuals made extremely violent death threats against him.

Ironic, he thought. Sir Alistair cocked the weapon and pressed it against his temple. He thought of his wife, with her beautiful face forever marred by a lead storm, and of the wraithlike mushroom clouds still hanging over North Calaveras.

"May Aequitas look over this country in my stead," he muttered tearfully. Within an instant, a bullet flew into his brain, and his body slumped over in his chair.

***

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Official Communiqué

Open Declaration:

On the night of 1 January 2013, Sir Alistair Davidson was found dead in his office at the Aedifices Parliamentarii. As a result, I, James Azzopardi, have assumed the office of Consul, and thus serve as the new head of government for the People's Sovereign Republic. The appropriate authorities, including the Senate, National Assembly, and the President, have been notified.

Sincerely,
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The Rt. Hon. James Azzopardi, MP
Consul of British Londinium

The buzz in Zackaroth was admist. The death of British Londiniums was big news. News channels all over the nation where making predictions on how it seemed whether British Londium's actions in NC where accpectable or genocidal. Now all they where running was news about his death and whether assaians from any country where involved. Gossip spread like wildfire as the news media ate this up.


To: The British Londinium goverment and Sir Alistair Davidson's family
From: The High Leader of Zackaroth, Aimless von strangaild.

Today is a day of mourning. While I never knew Mr. Davisdson much, I believe he was a great man, willing to do whatever was nesscary to protect his country and people. Yes while some of his recent actions are questionable I wish him nothing but peace in whatever beyond his spirt may travel to.


After sending the letter the High Leader sighed. " What am I kidding. The mans probly burning in Hell" he said before getting back to other bussniess.

The Praetor had been in his private offices, spending a quiet evening reading over reports from around the country, when the news came. His Minister of State barged in, bearing a communique from the Vetalian embassy in British Londinium.

"The Consul is dead, Ivan."
"Dead? What!? How the hell did this happen."
"Suicide. Apparently shot himself in the head last night."
"Oh, God, God...that's terrible...I, I never would have imagined something like this would ever happen."
"Neither did I. We always had good relations with his government, and I can only wonder what will happen now th-"
"It's not just that. Alistair was a friend of mine. I knew him even before I became Praetor, back in my days as a proconsul in the Ministry of Trade."
"I'm sorry Ivan, I really am. There wasn't anything we could do."
"I know, but it's still...I was just speaking to him the other day!"
"It really is terrible. Ivan Sergeyevich, I can't say how sorry I am..."
"I know, Valery, I know. Please, get us some drinks and have one of the staff prepare a fire in my study. It will be a long night."
"Right away, Ivan, right away."
"Thank you, Valerian."

Awash with grief, the Praetor picked up the phone and dialed the Consular Office. "Consul Azzopardi, this is Praetor Melnikov of Vetalia. We've heard of Sir Alistair's death and I want to let you know I will personally attend his funeral when the time comes. If you need anything, do not hesitate to ask." His last words broke slightly but he struggled to keep his voice clear until he hung up the phone.

Putting down the receiver, he lowered his head in to his hands, fighting to hold back tears of grief, but failed in that effort and began to sob as the Proconsul entered with drinks. Placing them down, he hurried over to the Praetor and embraced his closest friend, attempting to help him in his grief. There was no shame in tears in Vetalia, and the Praetor made no effort to hide the emotion that raced through him as the shock of such a sudden change raced through him.

Eventually, he recovered enough to converse again. The two men sat in front of the crackling fire for hours, discussing anything and everything that came to mind and somberly toasting Sir Alistair more than a few times during the night. Behind them, the lights of Vetalia City glittered, a pattern of life that contrasted sharply with the pall of death that hung over the Praetor that night. Difficult times lay ahead.

The only thing we can hope for is a more peaceful and benevolent British Londinium, especially in regards to the Sovereign League.

Official Prestonian Statement

Our hearts go out to the family of Consul Davidson and the nation of British Londinium. I personally met the Consul twice, and found him to be an overall nice man, though perhaps ill-suited to politics. It is my opinion that regardless of the recent incident in Calaveras, and the earlier Cazelia Incident, the Consul did not deserve to go in the way that he did. Although a secular nation by constitution, I myself am an Anglican, and will pray for God to have mercy on Sir Alistair's soul. To the new Consul, James Azzopardi, I say the following: may your reign be long and prosperous for your nation and the world. We will watch closely to see what kind of leader you are, however, as we have little knowledge of your policies.

With Deepest Regret,
Aaron H. Preston
Aaron H. Preston
President, Republic of Central Prestonia
Chairman, Prestonian Democratic Socialist Party

The Grand Arbiter laughed at the news, almost hysterically, almost madly, but then he regained his composure, and then snickered at the whole thing a little more. "Well," the Grand Arbiter said chuckling, "damn, serves his ass right I guess." He was talking to Arch Foreign relations advisor Lucy Raven. "Bastard glassed our ally, killed 700 million people, and that number is still rising, I don't know about you Lucy, but I'm rather devoutly Christian, and God made hell for people like him."

"I would agree sir." she said with slight undertones of an undefined emotion, somewhere between happy and sad, so neutral, empty.

"I guess we shouldn't laugh at his demise, poor fella lost his wife and all that stuff, I dunno what I'd do if I lost mine. Still, it's ironic that just as everybody's lookin for a way to execute the guy, he blows his own brains out."

Lucy flashed a smile, "Very much so." she was still so cold, it'd been weeks since Lee had been detained, but she still reeled from it for some unknown reason.

"Well, Jesus said to love you enemies, so send them a letter of our condolences, and send up somebody with some whiskey, would ya, it been a long week."

"It's Monday."

"I know."

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Our Condolences

As Grand Arbiter, I acknowledge that relations between our two great nations have not always been the best, but on the matter of Sir Alistair's and his wife's tragic deaths, we do give condolences. While he may not have gotten along with our nation too well, Sir Alistair was a strong, if brash leader. To Rt. Hon. James Azzopardi we whish luck in his reign and perhaps, someday, better relations between our nations.

Sincerely,
Grant Norse
Grand Arbiter of the Far Echo Islands

OOC: Since BL is under the Westminster system, Azzopardi is a full Consul, not an acting one.

I, personally, have never met or talked to his man. The only time we have heard of him is when he invaded small, developing nations. Good tidings to the next Consul. That is all we can say.

~The Mandalore.
-Supreme Ruler of Maldorians.

OOC: Since BL is under the Westminster system, Azzopardi is a full Consul, not an acting one.
OOC: Ok, edited. I need a lesson in Londinian politics I think *goes off to read your factbook*

OOC: Damn, you just couldn't have me bring about his end like I wanted too. Oh well, good move nonetheless.

SIC:

"He's dead?" said the High General in a disbelieving tone, "right when he was about to be killed on my orders, ah well. This way he's out of the picture in a cleaner way."

IC:

Official Statement From Aurum Domus High Command

We would like to express our deepest sympathies in regard to the untimely death of Consul Davidson, he will be missed greatly by the world.

Sir Alistair Davidson Square
Nyquist, Kensington
British Londinium

James Azzopardi gazed mournfully at the golden statue of the late Alistair Davidson in the centre of the square. Normally, Davidson Square was the nucleus for the city's businessmen; after all, it housed the Kensington Stock Exchange. But today, amidst the cold drizzle that slowly washed over the new consul, the square was only filled with mourners for the man who single-handedly founded the modern People's Sovereign Republic. A large, Londinian flag quivered in the distance.

"Today, we stand in the symbolic shadow of a great and respectable man," James began. "A man who we are all indebted to for his services to this country. Whilst many will say Sir Alistair was married to his wife, I, for one, would say he was married to his country. As soon as he completed his graduate work at university, he immediately went into politics to serve a nation he loved.

Once, immediately after the 2010 general election, a reporter asked Alistair, 'What will your policies be now that you've been elected Consul?' To which he replied in his customarily succinct way, 'Making this country flourish.'

He did so spectacularly, despite the obstacles placed in his way. Sir Alistair and I first met, you see, in the dark detention cells in the Tasmanian penal colony at the turn of the millennium, at the whim of Swanner. Day in and day out, I saw Alistair conquer adversity, until he finally got his freedom.

When he finally reached the office he had craved for so long, though, Alistair never let power get to his head. He loved to travel across this city by subway, bicycle and by foot. He lived as if he were unrecognizable -- although he was known by everyone he encountered. He always introduced himself, rather than take anything for granted. He drove his own car and flew his own plane, which is how he wanted it. He was the king of his domain.

And he wanted politics to be accessible to common person. 'Politics should be an integral part of our popular culture and that popular culture should be an integral part of politics,' Alistair once told me. And, to that end, he personally financed LBG Parliament when funds were low so that every man, woman, and child in this country could understand the mechanisms of government.

Sir Alistair spent his life in pursuit of invincibility. To us, he presented the unwavering image of a man who had conquered all that life had to throw at him. But he was as human as any of us, and the pressures of office, coupled with the guilt he carried for his most difficult decisions, ultimately led to his death.

Sir Alistair Davidson gave his life to British Londinium. He dedicated his life's work to each and everyone of us. We have lost a good, decent, hard-working man. We must never forget what he has done for all of us.

May Aequitas guide him and protect him in the afterlife."

James stepped down from the dais, struggling to hold back the flood of emotions contained within his skull.

Ingram sat down in his tent suicide he thought. Ingram never had disliked the late Consul, yet in fact admired his resiliance. he neither blamed him for his father's death. he then gathered up a group of marines, who raised the Londinian flag, said a speech, and fired their rifles in the air in honor of him.


Free Cazelian statement
To- Davidson family
From- Ingram Hasley

i am deeply sorrowed by the death of Mr. Davidson, who i admired as resiliant and steadfast. he was a good man. you may ask why i say this. it is because of his honor. we Cazelians admire honor as one of the greatest traits a man could have.

Sincerally,
Ingram Hasley

Gotcha, important dead guy, should we be sad? Happy? I dont know. Im stonned outta my head right now. ARE YOU TYPING? Huh? Fuck...I didnt say to type everything I said, did I? (slurred tones)
Stop fucking typing you little green bastard, dont make me come over th- (falls over desk, screams, appears to have stabbed upper forearm with a pen)
You little bastard! Im bleeding! Im fucking bleeding! (attemping to remove pen from arm, screaming, profuse profanity. Transcript ends as nothing more of interest was said.)
Ferk Swamp Eater
General, 1st Swamp Eater Army

Gotcha, important dead guy, should we be sad? Happy? I dont know. Im stonned outta my head right now. ARE YOU TYPING? Huh? Fuck...I didnt say to type everything I said, did I? (slurred tones)
Stop fucking typing you little green bastard, dont make me come over th- (falls over desk, screams, appears to have stabbed upper forearm with a pen)
You little bastard! Im bleeding! Im fucking bleeding! (attemping to remove pen from arm, screaming, profuse profanity. Transcript ends as nothing more of interest was said.)
Ferk Swamp Eater
General, 1st Swamp Eater Army

wtf...

Official Response:

The Free Empire mourns the loss of a national leader.

Domestic Response:

Parties raged across the Free Empire and her colonies.

Private Response:

Government officials were enraged the Davidson had commited the coward's way out, and effectivly weakened the anti-BL movement.

Lord Sumguy was sitting at his desk when he opened the paper to see a story concerning the Consul's suicide. I hardly blame him, I couldn't live with myself if I were that man. A tragic event nonetheless, no one should die in such a manner, and he was a saint compared to the other Londinian officials that i have met . He turned back to his paperwork, making a mental note to issue an official responce later.

To: James Azzopardi
From: Lord Sumguy

I am greived to hear of Consul Davidson's untimely death, and offer my condolences in the matter. As you are the new Consul, i wish you good fortune and wisdom throughout your term. Please convey my sympathy to the Davidson family. I also wish to offer to donate 80% of my nation's food surplus to help combat the shortage your nation is experiencing free of charge.

Prime Minister Ivansky Bochick read in disbelief. "So then," he thought. "The old tyrant is finally dead. And by his own hand, or so we're supposed to believe." He chuckled. "Yeah right."

Dispatch
To: British Londinium
From: The Allied States of Faxanavia
We are greatly sorrowed to hear of the passing of Consular Davigson, and do hope that the new Consular, and hope that he leads a more benevolent nation into the years to come.
Regretfully,
Prime Minister Ivansky Bochick


(OOC: Yes, the misspelling was purposeful.)

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Kiravian Empire

Permissum Astrum Subleuco

Office of the Emperor

I am struck by the death of Consul Davidson.

Whatever he may have ordered to be done, whatever other nations brand him as, I beleive that he acted always in the interests of the People's Sovereign Republic, and in that honourably and reasonably. In life, we are faced with challenges. Sir Davidson's challenges involved millions of lives, dozens of nations, and the welfare of the Republic he was charged to lead. He overcame these challenges for the benefit of those he served, and for that he is one of the most admirable leaders of the Western world.

Regards,

Kexarin Alfisol Raincedar

Emperor Kexarin Raincedar

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We are truly saddened to hear of the death of Consul Davidson, may his soul rest in peace. He was truly a great leader for British Londinium, and served only his people. A great loss for British Londinium, truly, despite his misforgivings (A.K.A the blender incident).

With a new leader, however, comes a new era for British Londinium. We wish Consul Azzopardi all good will and our best wishes for his rule, and as a gift, we wish to send a YND HSST-500, the supersonic VIP transport used by Pan-Arab Barronia as it's "Air Force One" of sorts.

We look forward to renewing our relationship with British Londinium in the near future, and to a prosperous relationship between both of our nations.

Pan-Arab Barronian Government

on behalf of

Her Excellency, Chancelloress Santina Verona-Barron

OOC: Where'd you get the surname Azzopardi from? I know a family with that name (mother works with them), and it's not exactly common :p

OOC: Check out "behindthename.com" and "surnames.behindthename.com". Brilliant for getting unique names.

Presidential Palace
Goa, India

Spending his vacation at his home state, the President was taking his regular afternoon nap on a couch in the living room. The calm, clear, blue sky and the Goa coastline, where the Palace, especially the living room, was overlooking was a perfect environment to sleep. The gently crashing of the waves amplified into the living room, while the light from the windows lit the paintings and statues in the room.

Outside in the hallway, the one of the President’s personal secretaries from the Palace Chief of Staff, Kavi Tilak, walked to the direction where the President was residing. His footsteps echoed through the painting and statue adorned hall. He carried a suit case in his left hand.

Two Republican Guardsmen in their Roman armored-ceremonial uniforms holding their rifles in the air guarded the door. Kavi told the guards that he requests to see the President about a letter. One of the guards looked at the other to confirm the request and opened the oak door.

Kavi, walked into the rose-scented room and took a brief look through the window. He stood next to a table, facing the President. The table having a vase full of red roses, but it was the President’s two silver-plated & ivory-handled revolvers, kukri knife, Army General’s baton, and President’s scepter that caught his eye.

"Your Majesty." he softly spoke, not to dominate the sounds of the waves. "Your Majesty."

The President beginning to regain consciousness opened his eyes slowly and looked to the direction where the voice came from.

"Jai Hind, Sahibji (Glory be to Rome, Sir)!" Saluted Kavi.

"Jai Hind, Kavibhai."

"I have received an urgent letter from British Londinium." said Kavi as he opened the suitcase on the table and reached in to grab the letter.

Kavi opened the letter and read the contents.

"Hmm....Never thought that son of a bitch would die." said the President. "Did the news state the cause of death?"

"No, Sahibji, but a broadcast of the new Consul, named James Azzopardi, issued a speech honoring late Consul."

No emotion of the Consul’s death was expressed from the President. The President just laid there on the couch rubbing his forhead to think up a sympathy letter. The President knew the Consul once when he contact with him during the Roman-British Londinian Embassy Exchange, not much of a friendship.

"Kavi, I want you to write this down."

"Yes, Sahibji."

Kavi pulled out a blank sheet of paper with only the From the President of the United States of Rome title and the President's seal a top of the paper. He attached the paper to the clipboard and began writing down what the President said.

Kavi handed the clipboard to the President, so he could sign his name and Kavi finished off the letter with the President's title.

"Thank You, Sahibji.", packing up this suit case. "I'll make sure Londinium receives this letter."

Kavi saluted the President and left the room until the sound of the waves was the only thing heard.

The President relaxed his head on the pillow and returned to his nap.

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

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OFFICIAL MESSAGE
FROM THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES OF ROME

To the British Londinium People:

Upon hearing the Consul's death, I want to send my sincere condolences to the people of British Londinium and the family of the Consul. Although I had only one conversation with the Consul, I would consider him a friend. I wish I had known him a little more during during his consulship.

As a friend, I would like to award the late Consul Alistair Davidson these awards posthumously, Grand Commander of the Golden Roman Eagle, Grand Commander of the Golden Crown, Presidential Medal of Honor, Golden Resurgere Party Badge, and Golden Pilot's Badge with Diamonds.

It is my hope that the new Consul will carry on Mr. Davidson's legacy and what he left off.

May God guide Mr. Davidson to heaven and the New Consul to ultimate Glory.

Sincerely,


IMPERATOR•TITVS•TRAIVS•T•F•C•N•AVGVSTVS•REGVLVS•AVGVSTVS•PRINCEPS•OPTIMVS•INVICTVS•PIVS•FELIX•MAXIMV S•PATER PATRIAE

His Greatest Imperial and Authoritative Majesty, Bhavan H. Patel
President of the Romans

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Official Communiqué

The Utopian Commonwealth wishes to convey its hope for Mr. Azzopardi's reign as consul.

Following the cease-fire between our two fine nations, The first issue concerning the Pictish Parliament is the new consul's policy and view of the Terranist religion.

Secondly, we wish to propose a Londinian-Pictish Non-aggression Pact as the next logical step towards maintaining stable relations between our nations, in the light of the new peace.

Yours Sincerely,
~Galan Mckay,
First minister as appointed by the New Pictish Parliament, Location Undisclosed