Looking very merry, Ziva walks out of her head quarters with a strong look of concentration on her face. A Santa hat is perched upon her head, a glass of whiskey being hung on to for dear life. Although she had been originally planning to head into town to make this speech, she got to the bottom step of the head quarters, which had been shoveled free of snow by one of her associates, and looked from her heeled shoes to the deep snow lining the street and shook her head. The idea of ruining the shoes was unthinkable, and snow would, most definitely, bring about an end to the beautiful creations. The idea of sticking her bare feet into that freezing cold snow and carrying the shoes... equally traumatic. Her decision made, she casually leans against the railing, stood on that bottom step. The street was one of North Side's busier streets in any case, she was sure her words wouldn't fall on deaf ears. Plus, when she wanted a refill of her whiskey, the bottle was only upstairs! This was all turning out rather spectacularly.

Holding on - CASUALLY - to the railings, she takes an almighty swig of her drink and begins to speak.

MERRRRRY CHRISTMAS!

Although this had not been her intention, an idea struck her for a song.

RAGGSY, THE RED NOSED LEFT HAND,
HAD A VERY SHINY GUN,
THEN HE FELL OVER IN A SPEAKEASY
AND SHOT HIMSELF IN THE BUM!

Tears in her eyes at the creative genius, she dabs at them with a hanky.

Are you all feeling Christmassy? I'm feeling Christmassy! Is everybody ready for Christmas? It's Christmas!!!

Do you have a special Christmassy message for your fellow mobster-kind? Do you have Christmas wishes to share? Share'em here!

I do. HAPPPPPPPY CHRISTMAS, FELLOW MAFIOSI! I hope you all have a fantastic one, with families and friends and far too much food!

Ziva drains her glass and looks at it, with sheer confusion and disappointment.

Why, she muttered, is the whiskey always gone?

Excuse me a moment, ladies and gents.

She returns into her head quarters, and returns a few moments later with a full glass and even more stagger.

Now then. New years!

New years, new start! I know most of us will have many new starts throughout the next year, but that doesn't mean that we can't all make a resolution for a new start and to change our ways now.

I have a couple of resolutions for myself in this thing of ours, and I'll share them here and invite you all to do the same.

Firstly, I'm going to continue what I have started in terms of speaking my mind more often. I don't want to the the sort of leader who sits in her ivory tower and keeps her mouth shut about the things going on in this world for the sake of keeping the peace. If something seems wrong, or illogical, or just a complete pile of bollocks, I'll say so. Our world deserves more space for honest opinion. I hope that I am one of the people in a position to lead a rise in that.

Secondly, I'm going to try to make Don before all my crew die of old age. Because I love them lots and would rather they not curse me constantly for my slow ranking!

With all that said, and in all seriousness, I would like to wish everybody a very merry Christmas, and a happy new year!

Ziva plonks herself down on the top step and drains her glass once more, before setting it aside on the step next to her and taking a pack of cigarettes from her bag and lighting one up as she waited to hear what the world had to say.

Dearest Ragnarok,

You know that ranking fills me with pain and dread.

But because I love you lots, I am making the uphill trek towards the rank of don.

Much love,

Ziva.

Roquelaure listens as Ziva's speaks and then thinks for a bit as far as her New Years resolution. She thinks long and hard trying to figure out what exactly it is that she needs to resolve the most as there's quiet a few things she can think of finally she takes in a deep breath and then exhales.

You know Ziva I must second you on getting to Don! My crew has been crying from day one about that.. Not that I can blame them. So I resolve to get there and get there in a hurry. She looks at the 200 jail breaks she did from the local prison earlier and sighs as she feels slightly worn out by them.

I must also make a second resolution as well and that's to be more active in these streets of ours. I hope to be able to fill them with a few new ideas that will entice people to take part and become more active. Not only in debates or such but also in telling stories and just an array of different things. She starts thinking of different things she might be able to do to help achieve this.

I'm sure I could keep going on for a while about different resolutions but I shouldn't aim to high at first. Reach my few goals and then well reach for the stars!

Roquelaure hangs around in the crowd for a bit to listen to the others resolutions as well and to wish those a happy new year and a belated merry christmas to those that she hasn't gotten a chance to.

Ziva offers Roquelaure a hug out of sisterly solidarity.

I swear, Don is the one rank where the more you feel you do, the further away it seems to go.

Ziva sighs, still determined to scale the mountain up to don, despite the copious amounts of complaint that this task seemed to have drawn from her ancestors in their journals.

I really hope we do see more of you out here Roquelaure, seeing your contributions so far has been fantastic and it'd be great to have more variety out here. Beggars can't be choosers and I'm frankly delighted to see the upswing of activity that we have seen, but I think that if it is to become sustainable, it needs more of a creative side rather than more a debating and announcing one. Variety is the spice of life, and all.

I have every faith in you Roquelaure, I'm more than sure that we'll see you back here in a years time reaching for those stars.