It started with a text born from an earlier confession that fancy was just not their thing.

Text to Lucky Penny: Am I doing this whole fancy thing right? img attached]

She never answered him. The typing bubble was visible for a good ten minutes, off and on, before it finally disappeared altogether. Patrick laughed, mostly at himself, and tucked his phone away to go pick her up for the party. Penny’s attempt at fancy was better than his, involving a pair of leather pants that left him speechless. Neither of them knew Lucy particularly well, but what better way to nurture a budding friendship than to attend a birthday party when invited?

Since he was kind of bad at the whole gift-giving thing, Patrick brought a card in a plain white envelope which he pressed into Lucy’s hands shortly after he and Penny arrived. On the inside of a card embossed with cherry blossoms on the front was a messily scrawled message that read, Happy Birthday! Do something crazy. - Patrick

Trick was kind of bad at the whole talking thing, too, but he and his date mingled well enough with the other guests. He even introduced Penny to Sal, who succeeded in making him blush not five minutes into their conversation. But it made Penny laugh, so Patrick didn’t mind at all.

As the party wound down, the two made their way to the beach. Neither went in the water, but they did take a long walk hugging the shoreline, hand in hand.

Sira'd arrive a little late to the dinner party, dressed for a warm night near the beach (except imagine the top is a little longer instead of cropped), armed with a large bouquet of colorful summer flowers--as well as a simple vase for them to go in. Tucked into the flowers was a small envelope, with a gift card to an onsen (The one Rise works for) and a short note: No need to go to all the way to the mountains.

She'd do a little mingling, but in true Sira fashion she'd be mostly quiet, pick a little at the food, enjoy a drink or two, and eventually find herself down on the beach.

The Greenswarden didn't dress up. It would take a specific request to get Sard into anything but the usual - tough jeans, a denim shirt, boots. The brain-bucket helmet and leather jacket got left on the seat of his bike out in front of Lucy's summer house... and before he approached the door, the biker toured the front yard on his own. Just a touch here, a touch there. Small adjustments to the plantlife, for optimal health.

Sard had a gift for the redhead, but it wasn't one for public delivery. A short trip into the woods, a few drunk, tiny flower-Fae later... she'd have a new decoration to wear, when they made it back from a walk on the beach later. Stolen for more time than he should have, away from those that have known her longer, but there's no appology from Sard. The Koralian just fades into the background, something he's had plenty of practice at, when they get back and the other guests descend on the birthday girl to claim her attention. There may have been a drunk Fae bumbling along behind her, following luminescent white petals, the scent of vanilla and spice.

Lucy gets a wink, just a flicker of motion without any expression to go with it, when Sard exits the house to take up a place on the deck. A spot he can see in and out, to slouch atop the railing upwind of the stench from cigarettes and other smoke, a cup of black, bitter coffee cupped in one hand with the aroma of whiskey to betray that it's doctored. But not the bitter-chocolate taint of Sekal-seed. No need for that, so long as he stays upwind.

For greetings... they're there. Not very ebullient, but there. A grunt of recognition for Ben, a curt nod for Sira. One word for Jewell... "Soup". Acknowledgement that he recognizes them. A glance at Patrick and Penny, that lingers narrowly on Penny. Not critical, just thoughtful. The biker hasn't forgotten that she bid on him, even if he hasn't gotten around to asking why yet. He might - in a few more decades. Can't be too hasty when it comes to questions.

Eventually Sard would find his way off the railing, slipping away to circle the back yard, and do the work for which he was designed - quite literally designed, just like every other Koralian human. Lucy's yard would thrive, where she wanted it to. But near the cliff... near the cliff the grass might start to dull, the fine lawn sprout the occasional native weed. Beyond the mouth of the cove below, a dark head bobs on the water, occasionally vanishing. Just a curious wild seal, eventually pulling itself out onto one of the rocks when the tide goes out.