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Even her pocket dimension couldn't quite work miracles that way~... As the hours moved deeper into the night and Alisa left the Samba parade, she still had so much more she wanted to do around Hargeon. Blue Pegasus' festival had left the whole city in a festive mood, so much that just one person could never hope to be in multiple places at once. Even if she could quickly swap out her outfits, Alisa couldn't quite clear away that glistening hint of sweat clinging to her skin without a good long shower... So she made sure to do just that, stepping through the nearest doorway with help from her skeleton key, straight to her room and into the shower, peeling off her clothes and turning on the tapwater, letting our a delighted, relieved sigh as the sizzling hot water rained down over her sinuous shape, cascading down those ample, eye catching curves as they washed away all the sweat and grime before she finally felt comfortable stepping outside... But even with her ring to quickly slip on her dress, by the time she finally stepped into the ballroom, Alisa's hair looked visibly damp, shimmering under the vibrant golden glow of the chandelier, sticking ever so subtly to every inch of skin revealed by that stylish dress, draped down in tresses over that full, expansive cleavage. She found her instinctive hands casually brushing over her hair, adjusting it as she took in the ballroom and everyone in it:
"Now, will I ever recognize anybody here~...? I suppose I can always...", with a mask comfortably draped over her face, Alisa felt a smidge of temptation to rely on the power of her left eye, letting her identify people from the scale of their magic power.
But in the end, the Guildmaster decided against it. After all, no way she'd fail to recognize anybody she'd previously met, from their voice, scent, mannerims... From their poise or lack tereof... And relying on such a potent sensory ability would just make her feel like a soilsport here... And such, Alisa casually sashayed around the edge of the ballroom, stepping away from the dancing couples waltzing across the middle, catching the eye of a helpful waiter, finally dressed in a spotless white shirt and a black vest over it:
"Care for a drink, miss...?", spoke the caterer, walking past with a tray full of beverages.
"Don't mind if I do, thank you very much~...", Alisa chimed in appreciation, reaching out and taking a full, hearty glass of port.
Bringing the deep red nectar up to her lips, she took a long, satsfying whiff of that fruity, fortified scent of alcohol aged in a cask to pure perfection.
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