Aura Of Misogyny

None of these options were good. None of them. They weren't even bad, they were just straight-up awful. The first would presumably have her prance around with a skirt no longer than a belt, and the third wouldn't merely destroy her reputation, she'd forever be taken at a joke. What the fuck was the point of walking in women's marches if she was gonna spend her time swinging around a pole like some gender-traitor?

At least the center one sounded manageable. Presumably, it'd cause those around her to be... dicks? Misogynists, specifically. Which sounded manageable. She was well-versed in the art of stripping self-proclaimed bros of their bravado and metaphorical testes, after-all, so it wouldn't be entirely new ground to her.

She went for the aura-inducing option. It's the only one of the three that - at least, presumably - wouldn't change her, which felt like the kind of outcome that'd be a rare treat in this game.

As she expected, nothing... seemed to happen. She was alone, of course, so she didn't really expect much to happen, but the app seemed... content, for better or worse. A caricature of some hunk appeared behind the little Cindy-avatar, doing an exaggerated wolf-whistle, which the mini-Cindy seemed to...enjoy? Ugh. Whoever made this really had a hard-on for reducing women into sex-objects, huh?

Good thing she wasn't planning on leaning into the role. In fact, for once, she felt as if she had the upper hand on the devilish app, and found herself able to click the sleep button on the side of it, drowning the Cindy-slut avatar underneath the now black mirror of a screen.

The rest of the evening was hers to rule. And so? She got undressed. Careful, now, so as to not ruin her pretty nails, and after a few minutes in the bathroom, found herself in bed, phone in hand. Time to find out what the hell this fucking app was about. She opened up a browser, and got to work, nails making the typing not only cumbersome, but slow, as she had to take the time to properly hit the keypad - as well as edit the many mistakes she ended up producing.

Gem Girls.

Magical App.

Self-installing apps.

Nothing. It was as if the internet had been purged of this specific concept. She'd went through 30 pages of search results at least, and had nothing to show for it. She was getting sleepy, too, with good reason - the lack of sunlight coming in through the window was a good indicator of what time it was. She could hear some music through some of the walls - a party, maybe? - but she couldn't bring herself to be a bitch and go over and complain about it. They wouldn't like her if she did that, after all.

Cindy slept poorly that night, repeatedly waking up to howls of laughter so fucking loud she could hear them through not one, but two walls. At one point, she'd had enough. She grabbed a t-shirt and threw on her pajama bottoms - a pair of dark grey cotton shorts, turning on the lights in her apartment (much to the suffering of her unprepared retinas), and promptly _marched _out the door. Her flip-flops gently tip-tipped along the floor of the hallway, the lights turning on by themselves as she marched down. Had she not known where they were hanging out, she'd have no problem tracking them down purely by the sound.

Knock-Knock-Knock.

The music stopped.

Oh god. Cindy suddenly paled. They probably didn't like that.

The door opened, revealing a visibly-drunk bro. More specifically, her neighbor, Chris. But after he'd seen her for a second- something changed about the way that he looked at her. At lack of a better word, he looked... _sleazier. _Like he was checking her out. It took a second before her brain connected the dots. Oh, they're sexist now.

"Well damn, Cindy," he drawled, his ethanoic breath washing over her like the mist from a nearby waterfall. "Didn't know you had some nice legs under all those baggy stuff you got. Shouldn't you be off hugging a tree or whatever? What you doing here? Come to join the party?" His voice was practically dripping with a condescending tone she'd never heard from him before. She wanted to punch him. Smack him until whatever grasp that fucking phone app had on him would yield, one way or another.

But something stopped her. A feeling of - something - like butterflies in her stomach, or a flutter in her chest - and the much more familiar whisper in the back of her mind that he wouldn't like that. He spoke to her like he probably would had she been a sorority girl or something, which she wasn't - and yet, when she opened her mouth to respond, her voice came out.... softer, than she'd meant to.

Almost flirty.

"Uh, no, not quite," Cindy replied, offering a smile.

Why was she smiling?! She was livid.

But she wanted to make him happy.

"I, uh, was just going to tell you-" to keep it down, it's the middle of the fucking night on a weekday, "That I really like the music. It's uhm- You've got good taste." NO NO NO that's NOT what she was going to fucking say-

The other guys in the background had stopped whatever they were doing, watching intently.

"That so, huh? Well, why don't you come inside for a little? Have a drink, listen more, uh, _closely," _he replied. A few of the guys in the background chuckled between one another in response to some comment she didn't hear. "We've got drinks, music. I bet you'd look real cute if you were to dance for us a bit," he smirked.

"I, uh-" Her phone buzzed in her hand. She couldn't even remember having brought it.

[Quick Challenge! Socialize & Have a Drink! Reward: 2x Score Multiplier on your next game. Punishment: +250% Lip Size!]

"Just one drink, c'mon. Don't be so boring all the time, Cindy."

"Uh..."