Malala's soft amber eyes stare at you impassively at first, and then defiantly as you grab her arms and pin them above her head to the stony wall exterior of the UN summit building.
She awkwardly struggles against your strong grip as her head scarf falls back along her gentle neck and her beautiful locks of darkened hair flow freely and lie still in the deserted silence around the both of you.
Berating you strongly in her desert gibberish you silence her with a longing forced kiss eliciting a soft gasp of surprise from the young girl who is drawn into a deep kiss with a boy's lips for the first time.
No stranger to terrible violence, she holds her body tensely but looks upon you with a quizzical expression. As if taken aback by your actions, her eyes quickly narrow at you as she realizes what your intentions towards her may be instead.
You take the opportunity to roam your hands gently over Malala's body, stroking her long slender arms, down to the elbow, and then placing your grip firmly on her jaw for a second then down towards her concealed breasts. She immediately struggles, shouting in pain as you press your body against hers and pin her to the wall. Nobody hears her pain or struggle over the loud chanting crowds and dis-concordant sirens of the protest-turned-riot.
Wrenching her away from the wall, you push her further into a darkened corner of the street, her girlish form unable to resist your embrace. Like drunken lovers locked in a semi-embrace you escort her past the still burning wreck of a security car into a small parking area reserved for diplomatic staff, long since abandoned in the mad rush to escape the bloodthirsty mobs.
The day of the happening came with little to no warning.
Malala whimpers in misery but makes no further attempts to escape as you throw her roughly into an alcove behind a set of stairs leading to the upper section and out of the garage. The dulled roar of the baying crowd is interrupted with a staccato burst of noise followed by an explosion of possible gunfire and by the soft crackle of rubber coated steel balls rebounding off of protestors outside.
She stares at the floor impassively again her body still tense as if expecting further brutality from you. You oblige her, delivering a forceful smack with the rear of your hand to the girl's weighty breasts. The cloth of her traditional garb, already loosened by her fall, is casually massaged by your groping hands. Gasping in pain at your forceful assault, Malala glares impassively upwards at the inverted stairs above her head, unwilling to make eye contact with you for even a second. She is clearly afraid of what you're going to do next and lies in a state of half undress. Her face scarf is missing now, and her breasts are partially exposed as she lies limply beneath you.
A - Apologize profusely to the girl
B - Threaten her
C - Check your surroundings (trap roll)
D - Step on the sweetroll and prepare for a fight.