Thread: Can She Rise To The Challenge (google and skittish_butterfly)

Katherine felt the briefest and most rare -- at least for her -- flash of nerves as she turned left and right in front of the mirror, making sure she had just the right look for the afternoon's event. It was the start of her Sophomore year at University already and she, the bright 19 year old daughter of the University's President, still had made nothing like the splash she made all through high school, nothing like the waves everyone expected of her, nothing like the what her father demanded of her. But she knew, knew in her bones, that this was the one. This was no stupid free the guinea pigs sit-in with no media and no publicity, this was a chance to take down misogynistic porn peddlers and abusers of disadvantaged women, all in the glare of the spot light, right on Daddy's door step in Freeman Hall. She needed the right look firm, feminist, empowered and independent, and yet just a little spark of intrigue to draw the camera and hold the eye. When this event started trending, she needed her name to trend with it the girl who stood up to the macho bullys. Her dark hair was just right, full of body and conditioned to a shine as it brushed the top of her slender, nearly bare shoulders. Just enough makeup on her large brown eyes to deepen the look without looking like she actually bothered with makeup, and the same casual approach to her wide full lips, just enough gloss to give that moist reflective look but not colored whorish red. She looked left, then right, peering back, then nodded, once again convinced it was her left profile the camera would crave. Her designer half-denim, half-linen sleeveless blouse looked just right. It showed off her slender toned arms, skin smooth and pale, but gave the clear impression she wasn't dressed for clubbing. To her eye she looked... serious. Katherine did a full circle one last time, liking the appealing way her skirt twirled at mid-thigh, remembering this was the skirt she'd worn to the bonfire last Fall when she'd hooked Donovan. Oh. She thought about that a little more, remembering the hungry look in his eyes as he'd first caught sight of her legs that night, that hungry look he still had every time he tried to talk her into what he wanted. Katherine hastily unzipped the snug skirt from her hips and slipped it off, standing just in pink cotton bikini panties, looking in her more serious drawer. She pulled out a pair of beat up old jeans, snug in the hips, showing the shape of her legs and just oversized enough to give the slightest hint of her slender waist, especially worn without a belt. Yes, that was the look. She slipped on her leather sandals and checked her slender frame one last time, pocket book in hand. Then she thought about the military rule, the one who rules the heights has the advantage. Off went the klunky sandals and instead she slipped her unpainted toes into a shiny pair of platforms giving her a good extra few inches to her 5'6 height. Best to be eye-to-eye when arguing a bully down. Finally satisfied she slipped out of her singles apartment, one of the few visible perks she accepted from being the President's daughter. Of course there were many invisible perks, but she chose to ignore those since no one else was likely to care either. Better impressions were made by seeming to be just one of the girls. Other than a brief call to Donovan to bring Vicky and Belinda and meet her at Freeman Hall, she spent the 15 minute walk reviewing her notes and thinking through her strongest arguments. She hoped she'd done enough research, but ultimately, more than facts she needed talking points and favorable impressions. With this much media there would never be time enough for debate club niceties. Given how brutal the guys in the videos she'd studied were, she wagered there was a chance this could even get a little ugly -- if so, so much the better for the waves the story would make -- but that was also why she wanted her useful boyfriend and devoted entourage with her. Katherine spotted Donovan and the girls on the far side of the quad in front of the hall but walked the other direction to the coffee cart, calling them over with just a subtle wave as she ordered her customary caffeine booster. Donovan, 6 tall and somewhat handsome, solid enough even if he wasn't a football player or anything, almost bounced toward her, his eyes playing over her body in a way she was now quite used to ignoring. She noticed he lingered over her legs and hips briefly, but settled more on her delicate collar bone and neck, the little golden necklace he'd given her setting off her throat quite nicely. Yes, that was the right effect. So what do you want me to say? Should I yell stuff like 'yeah! right!' when you talk? Donovan was always such an overeager puppy. It was almost cute, sort of. She put one hand ever so lightly on his forearm. No, no. I've got it. Just make sure you're ready in case they can't handle an intellectual argument. Some of these guys, I've seen their pornos -- research, of course, please -- but, they're pretty short tempered and more than a bit abusive and they don't seem too well stocked in the brain cabinet. Keep the pepper spray handy in case one of them comes at me, but don't spray him until he's real close, close enough for the cameras, you know? Donovan's face fell and Katherine felt her annoyance with him coming almost automatically. You forgot the pepper spray didn't you. Geez Don, the one thing I asked. Girls, weren't you... Oh never mind. Run back and get it, quick, before this gets out of hand. I'll be down in front on the left side of the audience, across from the camera bay. Meet me there as soon as you can. Katherine didn't even wait to see how dejected Don looked as he took off at a sprint back to his room. She didn't wait for the other two girls to fall in behind her, just assumed it. She ignored the eyes of boys and a few annoyed girls who watched as she strolled into the Hall like she owned it -- which, in a sense she kind of did, really, at least somewhat. And she paid little attention at all to the man she brushed past in her hurry to get in early for a good seat where the media would get her best side. She sat almost motionless, thinking rapidly as the hall filled up and then a few men came on stage along with the University Vice President, Daddy's right hand man Professor Thomas. The somewhat daft older Professor made a rambling introduction, clearly uncomfortable and unsure how to properly relate the CVs of the men who were about to address the crowd. Eventually he just sort of trailed off and winced as he took a seat on a hard folding chair at the side of the stage. There were a couple men speaking but Katherine really didn't pay much attention to what they were saying. It wasn't like there was anything she needed to hear. She's seen the videos, the way they abused and mistreated and flat-out degraded all those young girls. There was no explanation or justification she wanted to hear. Katherine was out for blood and felt the caffeine pumping. The word questions wasn't even out of the last man's lips, a Michael something-or-other, and she was already up and talking, not waiting for anyone else to steal the virtuous spotlight that was rightfully hers. Excuse me. You can say what you want up here dressed up in your slacks and pretending to be civilized men, but you are beasts who prey on the vulnerable. You should be ashamed! All the girls you've destroyed, turning them into little more than toys for your sexual gratification, and objects of debased fantasy for the countless boys whose attitudes about girls and sex are being formed by watching you, you should be ashamed! You owe it to those poor girls to provide counseling before you film their demise and ruin them. If the law can require counseling before abortion, it should certainly make sure the drug-addicted or sexually abused waifs who come your way should be protected and helped before you can finish them off. She was just getting started and was starting to reach for a ream of blank papers she would fan in front of him while talking about statistics. It didn't really matter what was printed on the actual paper, and whatever statistics she needed could always be argued about later, after the cameras already soaked up her every word, after her point was well made.