Cool, soothing abjurative magic washed over the nearest revelers not too long after the orange powder; the spell might well be resisted by the will of one who would not have it, but its effects were to the boon of the bequeathed.<br/><br/>A strawberry-blonde young lady lowered hands which had arced intricately in the air during the spellcast. She folded her arms lightly across the classical-style ivory chiton which hung low between the shoulders. A golden-cord belt girded the gown at the waist, from whence it fell to the knees, above shins and feet clad in sandals as the same ancient style. Two vertical slits ventilated the back of her gown, from the shoulderblades against to the waist. Supple peach-hued skin was revealed through the slits as she turned about, away from another young woman with whom she'd been slowly dancing.<br/><br/>Long strawberry tresses braided back above blazing blue eyes, she explained, "Magic to resist the damage of flame to your flesh, at least to some degree. I've no wish to interfere if you devils and demons and drow all wish to spill one another's ichor, the gardens would be quite suitable for duels even...but like the elf, I'd rather other young ladies not get randomly shot and sworded in the course. I might wish to dance with any given beautiful maid later, after all."<br/><br/>With a swing of her hips, she made a drifting sideways step to place herself right between Virgil's gun barrel and Mideala. Underneath her medusa-like eyemask, she smiled serenely at him, and then twisted at the waist and shoulders to wink at the she-elf with twinkling eyes.<br/>