Teagan and Open (Fashionably Late)
About forty-five minutes after the party had gotten underway, the myconid arrived. She hadn't planned on being late, but she'd actually had a client, and then getting ready took longer than she'd meant to. For all appearance, she was a young girl in her early twenties, dressed apparently as Mrs. Claus. As soon as she walked through the door, she began to go from person to person, pulling small, wrapped boxes from her bag and offering them to any takers. She didn't say anything as she did this, not because she was normally quiet, but because she'd gotten the impression from somewhere that Santa Claus wasn't supposed to speak to people. At least she smiled. All images of Santa showed him smiling. He wasn't supposed to be seen by children, but as there weren't any children on the property, she felt like that restriction was being upheld.
There was a chance that people might assume she'd mixed up the holidays again (really, they should go in order of presents-food-candy, as that was a logical progression that allowed for giving edible items as a present in the precursor event, and candy kept the longest), but she hadn't. Not really. Last year she'd tried to dress as a pumpkin (using real pumpkin), and that hadn't gone over well with people at all. Going as a visual representation of a later holiday was a subversive statement, but nobody could complain that it was drawing fruit flies.
There were far more presents in her red bag than there were guests of the party who wanted to take presents, which left her at something of a loss. Within mere minutes of her arrival, she was standing by the the banquet table, trying to stack little pyramids of giftboxes between the platters.