Teagan and Archer and Open
"Giving behavior-appropriate gifts," Teagan responded promptly, the red-and-white bauble earrings catching the light in a cheerful way. Her eyes were oddly glassy, unfocused... but what was really to be expected from organs that weren't formed naturally out of necessity, but rather for decorative purposes? The myconid had done a rather good job of replicating the human form. Some of the interior bits were far from right, but they could be altered. Everything was a work in progress. The exterior form was closer, but certain things didn't work the same. When she tried to mimic human tears, Teagan cried through her skin rather than lacrimal ducts. She also had a difficult time spitting, since her mouth didn't naturally form saliva.
Not that these limitations impeded her life all that much. She couldn't compete in spitting contests, couldn't eat or cry or process biological matter like a normal person... but she was successfully fitting in, regardless. That was evident enough by the way the people at the Red Door accepted her. The smile on Archer Avery's place was proof positive that she was adapting well. It hardly even mattered that nobody spoke her language. She was becoming so fluent in theirs!
"We aren't really Santa Claus, though," she reminded him, just in case he forgot. "So we can't track a year's worth of behaviors. We're rewarding the good deed of coming to this party with the gift of traditional Halloween candies. Ten of those boxes have spider rings, too. They're plastic."