Angela Montenegro

Katina Choovanski

Sokka

Liz Sherman

Alice Liddell

Liir Thropp

Angela was still kind of on a high from a fun weekend. She was around, and of course willing to be chatty.

Angela grinned and returned her wave. Yesterday's party was totally a good way to make new friends, see? "Hi."

"Hopefully," Angela replied, briefly holding up crossed fingers. "I'm going for spur of the moment improvisation," she said. "You never know what you'll get out of that."

There was definitely a way in which Angela was highly impressed by Claudia's brave fashion choices. She wouldn't ever wear that, but... That wasn't the point.

"Why Omaha?" she had to ask. It seemed very, well, randomly specific.

"I don't really know much about the place either," Angela offered after a moment. That it exists, yes, but very little else.

Katchoo had done nothing all weekend but paint, but she'd brought the unfinished canvas with her today. She wasn't working on it yet; she had it propped up against a chair opposite her and was contemplating it, moodily.

(Because that was a big surprise, the moodiness.)

She wasn't looking any more inclined than usual to talk to anyone, but given that the painting she was staring at looked like a bizarre cross between a Dali painting and a still from a Kurosawa film -- half-melting samurai mounting a futile attack against a giant clock tower -- someone could probably ask her about it.

Clocky, sitting by her left foot, rolled forward and back a few inches and tweeted confusedly.

Sokka hung out, because ART!

After a few minutes of artistic contemplation, Angela mixed a pale green base for her paper, adding a good portion of matte medium so she could work in some collaged bits later. Today was a day for the abstract.

Claudia began sketching out a new piece of jewelry inspired by the Superbowl trophy.

It was huge and tacky silver.

Lily was here, and deciding that the hardest part of being the advisor was not walking around and complimenting everyone's work. Not kindergarten omg.