A typical-looking female Stevens student in leggings and a ponytail walked hurriedly by, murmuring into her cell phone: “Oh God, they’re everywhere.”

She was, of course, referring to the throngs of anime and gaming fans dressed up in elaborate costumes that were taking over Hoboken for the fourth annual Castle Point Anime Convention. And she looked pretty out of place in her weird regular clothes by comparison.

The convention, helmed by Stevens Institute’s anime club, is a day-long celebration of Japanese animation, videogames, culture, and well, awesome costumes. It began four years ago by former members of the anime club, who decided on a whim to make up a new convention. From humble beginnings, the con now takes over a few buildings on the Stevens campus, the gymnasium, and okay, the sidewalks of Hoboken.

1 p.m. – I stepped into the registration room and met up with Matt Neuteboom, Stevens student and event press relations guy, who said the con has only grown bigger and better since I visited last year.

“We have a new Artists and Dealers Room (at Schaffer Gym) and it’s much bigger,” he said. “The school finally realized we were a pretty big event.”

At around that time, registration was at 1,377 participants, a big growth since the 600 or so people who showed up four years ago, during the inaugural convention.

1:30 p.m. – After walking around a bit and taking in the scenery (an oversized sword-wielding young man, a couple of wayward Pokemon here and there), I made my way to Schaffer Gym to check out the artists and vendors who were selling their wares.

Alinea, of New York, was hawking girly accessories like hair bows made of hair at her table, under the name Last Night, Good Night.

“I was really into Lolita fashion, but it’s kind of inaccessible: you have to buy things overseas, the prices are high,” she said. “So I just started making my own (accessories). If I see a bow I like, I just pick up some fabric and try to recreate it.”

By far, the most popular booth belonged to a man named Xavier, who sold katana swords, parasols, goggles and other accessories. But, it was mostly the swords that got people’s attention, which ran from about $20 to a few thousand.

“I’ve been doing this for 12 years,” said Xavier. “I started out selling blinky lights, but now we do all of the big conventions.”

“Will you be here next year?” a young man asked as he held a katana, wide-eyed. When Xavier nodded his head, the convention-goer said: “Okay, I’ll have money next year.”

2 p.m. – “They have tomato-flavored Pretz, but… that sounds so weird,” I heard behind me as I left Schaffer Gym and walked back to the Babbio Center to catch a seminar.

I popped into the beginning of the Zombie Survival Guide panel (which was a two-hour long affair). Hosted by “experts” of Deadguy Incorporated, it went over the basics: how to spot a zombie (“It’s a dead person walking, literally. Zombies want to eat you.”), and how to escape a zombie (uh, run?).

2:30 p.m. – I stopped into the videogame room to check out the scene. There’s a RockBand station, a Super Smash Brother Brawl tournament just starting, and some classic games, from arcade-style to Super Mario Brothers.

Actually, I think half of the people there were not even convention-goers but bored Stevens students who just saw some free videogames.

Outside, I met Paul Keim, a Hoboken resident who was dressed as Dante from Devil May Cry, a videogame and subsequent anime series. I asked him what the best part of any convention is.

“I love that you can see people all around who are into the same stuff as you,” he said. “Like, you’re not the only one who loves anime.”

The two best-dressed that I spotted were Cila Pinto (as Ciel Phantomhive, of Black Butler) and Mallory Curtin (as Madam Red, also of Black Butler), two students from Long Island.

“It took me awhile to get ready,” said Pinto. “I had to get the wig ready, do my make-up, and then get myself into the skirt.”

She lifted her big frilly dress to reveal denim shorts underneath, where she had stowed her cell phone.

“I think it took us longer to get here,” said Curtin. “The journey was stressful, but it was worth it.”

2: 45 p.m. – One thing that I am noticing is that there are a lot of “Free Hugs” signs. There are also a lot of girls dressed up like fancy French maids. Hmm…

I overhear a loud squeal and then a voice nearby: “Oh God, a fangirl attack!” which was funny in context, and also if you’ve ever seen a group of girls lose their marbles over a cute stuffed animal or a doe-eyed boy.

3 p.m. – I headed over to the Masquerade, which is actually a little talent show for cosplayers (people who like to dress up like anime characters). On my way a wayward cardboard sword poked me in the arm. The owner quickly apologized, and I heard softly behind me, “Oh God, I’ve been killing people all day…”

The Masquerade, held in Burchard Hall, was kicked off with a dance party to a song that apparently everyone knew the moves to but me. This is actually like most dances in my life. Next, The Promise Sisters sang (“You guys are so precious!” came a shout from the crowd), and participants staged Street Fighter and Death Note parodies (spoiler alert, the latter ended sexy).

4 p.m. – “As soon as you leave the (Stevens) campus, it’s a whole different world,” said Brien Deegan, of Scotch Plains. “I don’t think a lot of the regular people outside know that this is going on, so when they see us, they’re like, ‘Uhhh.’”

Kristin Casey, who came all the way down from Connecticut for the convention, said her favorite part was getting to meet new people. I asked what inspired her retro Pokemon costume. “Ash Ketchum never dies!” she replied.

“Yeah he did, he was turned to stone,” said her friend Henry Kunstadter, of Mountainside. This prompted a ten minute long argument about whether or not you can be alive if you are a rock.

4:30 p.m. – At this point, I was feeling pretty tired right. I forgot to grab a bite to eat, and besides, the crowds seemed to be waning. Everyone was either taking a rest, or reapplying their costume make-up in preparation for the dance at 8 p.m.

I checked out the classic gaming room, where a group of friends, Dr. Librarian, Bro-seidon, Jill Valentine and Dark Steel, where playing Magic: The Gathering (and yes, by this hour, I shrugged and said, “Those names are good enough to print.”), and then the videogame room, where the RockBand “competition” was still going strong (and not fueled by a case of beer like it usually is at my house).

When I had first arrived, Neuteboom said: “We enjoy doing this out of the spirit. We don’t get paid or anything, but the fans are always so appreciative. We like seeing it grow.”

 “We came from being a small con – about 600 people or so – to being a large, well-known convention,” he added. 

As I left, I heard a girl say, exasperated, “I really need a hug right now.”

Another girl, bearing one of the ubiquitous “Free Hugs” signs, appeared seemingly out of nowhere to grant her wish. 

And I guess that’s what I love about going to anime conventions: when your Cardcaptor Sakura dress rips, someone will lend you a safety pin, if you need a snack, someone will offer you Pocky. And if you need a hug, well, there are plenty.