Tensor

Hope was practicing her juggling in front of the library. It was a little colder but nothing that some good old fashioned layering couldn't help, and Hope was well accustomed to layering. If anything she was sort of worried about Rio because she wasn't quite sure that she could handle the heat. For the moment, though, she was just standing outside, juggling, smiling and calling to the people walking past her into the library. It was one of her favorite ways to meet people.

"Hi!" she called, smiling brightly. "Studying? Want to juggle? Catch." With that she threw one of the balls out and then proceeded to juggle the remaining two. Two was so much easier than three, but it also didn't really count as proper juggling.

Chase was glad he'd brought his skiing gear. It made waiting outside in just below freezing temps easier. He'd had to rebuild his cover a bit, but thanks to Drake and his tendency to blow snow at any excuse, there was more than enough snow still for a short term assault.

It hadn't been that hard to convert his small portable tennis ball launcher for snow. It wasn't like he expected it to last any longer than the day. Not with people who could blow up buildings as a knee jerk reaction. Which was probably why this was dumb, but thus far, the most exciting thing that had happened was getting together with Gert.

That was awesome. But that just meant he had a partner-in-crime. Which was pointless unless they were making some sort of trouble. So, snowball ambush outside their dorm early Sunday morning.

For now all there was to do is drink coffee and wait for their first victims though. "So am I gonna get a treat for this genius idea?" he teased Gert as he looked back at her over his shoulder.

The half hour nap that Anna had taken after her shower had not been nearly long enough, but the whole needing to get up soon or face having to actually drive somewhere to get food prospect was enough to drag her out of bed again. She had pulled on a clean uniform and, along with her roommate, had trudged over to the food court at the student center. The cafeteria was just too far.

There was a little bit of a crowd in the food court, but they seemed, by and large, to understand that none of the cadets were much in the mood to stand in lines while people took their precious time deciding what they wanted to eat, and the pair had made their way through relatively quickly.

"I'm not doing any homework tonight," she informed Ali as she dropped her tray onto a table and then dropped her ass heavily into her seat. "I am way too fucking tired for that."

The far end of the lake was distant enough from the dorms that they could be as loud as they wanted, within reason. It was hidden enough by trees that carefully placed lanterns wouldn't give them away, though the vast majority of the light came from the moon.

Clint had taken the time to hang up ropes to swing into the deeper waters. There were a few pool toys borrowed from the shed and plenty of towels. Music played, switching genres almost schizophrenically as each song ended, and some food and drinks sat in hastily gathered coolers. There was even alcohol held in a cooler that proclaimed, probably not for you.

A throng of later high school and college students were there, roughly a quarter skinnydipping thanks to one of the high schooler's abilility to keep the water warm and comfortable. Everyone seemed to be having one hell of a time.

( Work cut, just in case )

Afternoon

Shinobi had no classes after his morning Chinese history and had been feeling a little pent up, a little needy for human contact. It was past school hours, so he was dressed in a plain dark blue kimono with the sleeves tied back, short jika tabi, and a pair of close-fitting shorts in case any wise guys decided they had to see if he was wearing pants.

He stood in the common area of the first floor of Castle Hall at a table, wearing plastic gloves, making hand molded onigiri. Already there were several long plates of them, some with plain rice, some sprinkled with sesame seeds or shredded toasted seaweed. They were for everyone. Shin thought his fellow students might like an afternoon snack that wasn't chips or candy bars, and if not, he would wrap them and fry them up later for himself. The fillings were mostly tuned to the American palate, with tuna salad or salted salmon, but there were a few with a mix of Japanese pickled vegetables (with just a touch of umeboshi) or salmon roe.

Since he was not a Japanese housewife making a bento, he didn't cut the seaweed into little shapes or make faces on his onigiri (though he remembered fondly how his own mother had often done so), but took pleasure from making the rice balls as aesthetically pleasing as possible.

The three rectangular plates in front of him had many gaps from students taking one or two and Shin's red rice cooker stood ready to make more. Another student turned the corner, and he said in his quiet voice, "Have an onigiri."

Most of the time, Gert could be found in her room, headphones on and a book in front of her face. More often that not Old Lace would be curled on the floor beside her because Gert treated the projection of her own mind more like a cat than an over-the-top psychology experiment. She would pet the top of the dinosaur's head, and Old Lace would make a sound that was almost like purring but could startle newcomers into thinking she was growling and preparing to eat their liver. Old Lace had never eaten any livers. If anything she was partial to skin cells and would occasionally lick people, especially Gert, when she was in a good mood.

Old Lace was in a restless mood, though, and rather than just call her back into her own mind, Gert had relented and left her room. Instead they were sitting in the Common Area of the dorm. Gert was sitting cross legged on one of the chairs, her book open on the table and Old Lace's head in her lap. The slight growling sigh of Old Lace's breathing as she slept filled the room. Gert could see how other people might find it distracting, but it sounded like home to her.

The elementary students had had a low key party with punch and cookies and large amounts of glitter earlier in the day. That had all been cleaned up before dinner, though, and now the assembly hall in the main building had been...well, transformed would have been over-stating it, but it was definitely festive. Crepe paper streamers in red and pink and white had been strung from the chandeliers and along the walls, and tables down one side of the room were covered in actual fabric table cloths in matching colors, the surfaces littered with paper hearts and glitter and, almost incongruously, tasteful arrangements of red and pink roses with baby's breath. There was the obligatory punch bowl flanked by trays of elaborately decorated cookies and cupcakes, as well as platters of finger foods of varying degrees of sophistication and complexity. The chandeliers overhead had been dimmed to create a suitably 'romantic' atmosphere, while not making it too dark for the comfort of the few chaperones scattered about the room keeping a tolerant eye on the middle and high school students as they milled about, some dancing to the DJ provided music while others lingered in corners or slipped out into the lobby beyond the great double doors or the moonlit garden just outside.

In the lobby the music was muted, and clashed only slightly with the music escaping from the ballroom on the other side, where the college students were having their own event. The lobby was a large space, with thick rugs in the school colors covering the hardwood floors, and portraits of the founders looking down from the walls on a few groupings of heavy leather armchairs and tables scattered with informational brochures as well as a few free range decorations. The restrooms occupied opposite corners, and small groups of students of all ages lingered in the room, on their way in or out or simply escaping one event or the other for a while.

In the ballroom beyond, the streamers were absent there (though not the glitter), and the decorations ran to a more sophisticated black and red, with circular tables and chairs scattered around the edges of the dance floor in addition to the refreshment tables. The lights were lower as well, and there was a decided lack of chaperones monitoring the festivities as the older students enjoyed an event blissfully free from the restrictions of uniforms and dress codes.