Ziva meandered amongst the ruins and rubble of the great city of New York. She'd made her way, over the past few days, around several of the former HQs of crime families, looking for friends who may have survived, searching out the kin of those who had not, and generally being overwhelmed not only by the devastation and destruction that had taken place here, but across all of the four great cities of the mafia world in the past week.

She ran the loses through her head. West Side, along with the city of Detroit, had been the first to fall. Godfather Lynch had been someone she had respected greatly, a respect that had been built back in the days of her mother, when they had formed the greatest hitter/proer half asleep team of all time. Godfather Anomaly was a man who appreciated a good fist bumping - minds out the gutter, you dirty bastards-, and in the days since his death, she'd missed that sorely. She had been looking forward to a celebratory post-auth fist bump that never came, that would never come, because of the unfortunate timing. New York, Brooklyn and Queens, along with Old City District of Philadelphia had come next. More friends fallen. Tommy, in particular, had been a punch to the gut. She'd finally seen the man take on a bold suit, only to have it all torn away later on, in the same way as another old friend who'd been a key asset to the family of her Great-Great Grandmother had been ripped away the day before, the very same day he could finally call himself Don SnidelyWhiplash. The scuffle just after the end of that war, between Philadelphia and the remainder of New York had seen someone she was beginning to call a new friend leave this world, Corky. And just when she had thought the dust was settled, in the same day, she had seen an old friend depart in Condemned, only hours before the fall of what had remained of New York.

The funerals, the speeches, the mourning had seemed somewhat endless. She was beginning to lose words for her feelings on seeing so many of her friends depart this life, their bloodlines perhaps depart this world forever, in some cases.

Some good had come, she supposed. Certain, she was, that her Godfather would only act with the best interests of their district in mind, she felt safer in her bed at night. She herself had been given her own head quarters, a chance to go out in this world, with Cab_Tufting at her side, and build up a family. She'd seen Cantona ascend to the rank of Godfather, seen JackRyan take his own district.. it had been fantastic.

She began to wonder though.

Was this, as had been widely claimed and rumored, the results of the mafia crews of this world turning on each other? Was this the result of crumbling alliances, pre-emptive strikes, power struggles and all the usual reasons and explanations? Or was something bigger at play here? Was there more than met the eye?

She flicked through the evidence in her minds eye.

The last crew that her family had ran, Fort Hubcaps, had seen in its final days, before it's untimely fall, decimation of the HQ by a gang of unruly beavers with quite ferocious super powers. She remembered her Great-Great-Grandmother and SnidelyWhiplash trying to warn the world of this menace. She had read, in the journals of her namesake, the fear that had been held that the Beavers were preparing to take control of Ziva's mind after driving her to a state of insanity by decimating her head quarters and stalking her all over town. She wondered, perhaps, how far these furry little fiends had been willing to go.

Suddenly, it became clear to her. It was linked. It was all linked. In the absence of being able to take over the mind of the first Ziva, the beavers had moved on to other targets, targets who now ruled the world, with a beaver army working night and day to control them.

Ziva stopped dead in her tracks on the snowy street.

They've done it. She choked out in a hoarse whisper. They've taken over the world!

Heh.

Seeing a familiar face in Telkin, and finding comfort in the idea of an ally who may well understand the terror posed by the beaver scourge - the discovery by her great-grandmother Ziva, and Telkin's cousin Snidely Whiplash, of the existence of the network of evil beavers attempting to take over the world lead by the nefarious Prince Nigel McBeaverson the Fourth, who just so happened to be the biggest and hairiest of all the beavers, had, after all, lead to this threat first being revealed to the world - Ziva looks around, eyes darting into every corner of the destroyed streets for any sign of their furriest of foes, before grabbing Telkin by the arm and pulling him into a nearby cafe.

Settling down at a table, nodding her greetings to the barista, she picks up a newspaper to hide her face from the streets outside. Opening it up at the news section and peering over the top, she begins to speak in the most hushed of tones, with an air of great mystery and drama about her.

Telkin, we have a problem. A very serious problem, my friend. One not easily overcome.

They're back Telkin, you and I both know it. They're back, and I fear that this may be their final stand. I fear it's here. The Beaverpocaylpse. We have to do something Telkin, the end is near, I can feel it. If we don't act now, the world as we know it... it'll never be the same again dude. We've gotta do something.

As she sighs and takes a deep breath, she notices a flash of brown fur before her, and suddenly, Telkin is being dragged away, a sack over his head to muffle his screams, and dragged out the door. Beavers being beavers, however - even radioactive super power having beavers - the progress of dragging away a fully grown man who has decided to kick up a struggle seems a little trickier than the beavers may have anticipated, and their progress out of the cafe is slow at best - and involves lots of knocked over tables. The conniving little fiends seem to be looking up apologetically as they attempt to drag, as though to stop customers who have had their drinks spilled from being annoyed.

Ziva steps up behind them and clears her throat.

Just what the FUCK do your fluffy little bastards thing you're doing to him?

She gives one of the ringleader beavers a swift tailpunt out the door, causing the others to seize up and jump back from Telkin. As she yanks the sack from over his head and helps him back to his feet, they look at each other, before promptly fleeing through the door and out onto the streets.

Sitting back down at their table, one of the few not upended in the chaos, she shakes her head.

Well Telkin. We know they're on to us. Where do we go from here?