Abigail raises her eyebrow at Noah at his comment on her enigmatic choice of words. Tristan goes on to question her choice of words as well, but a lingering frown makes it clear that she isn't altogether too keen on lending further insight on her wordings. Still, never the sort to not answer a question asked, she responds, albeit in a voice nearly drowned out by continuing conversation: "The preferred mages are taught, or born, but not instantly made." She glances around briefly, but is quite content to have been overlooked for small conversation, though she is hardly the sort to be naturally inclined towards such chatting. This is especially true now, as her mind is easily moved away from that which she cares little for- like one's opinion of the weather, or anything along those lines.
Thinking on the topic of the creation of mages, Abigail can sympathize with those who would disapprove of people given gifts instantly. After all, were she back at the university, life as it had once been, and someone suddenly waltzed in with an incredibly proficiency for mathematics or science that they hadn't had the previous day, and showed no evidence of working for, how could she help but be irritated? Not that this is the same situation entirely, of course, for those who will teach them are still many years ahead of the skills of the 30, including the one who looks as though she might actually be younger than several of the members here. Still, the idea does linger in her mind, that they are a somewhat irritating sort due to the foundations of their magical abilities, though not due to individual personality issues. Well. Some of them do strike her as somewhat aggravating, but that's unimportant.
By this point, a few more people had entered the courtyard, though they made no attempt to engage themselves in the conversation, instead opting to watch silently. She studies their faces from the corner of her eye, before becoming concerned that she might look rather creepy doing so and looking away once more. Piper begins talking, then, asking people how they've slept and talking about her most recent herbal concoctions. Abigail is far more interested in hearing about her use of various herbs, but the girl comments something about her loquaciousness and fades out a bit.
Conversation is cut short as soon as Adamus and Delphine arrive, presumably to debrief the group on what's going on. Based on the look that Delphine gives Adamus when he addresses her as 'Dee' in front of the students, she would rather be called more formally. Abigail makes a note to address her as Madame Vawdrey when speaking within earshot of the woman, who can certainly do more damage than Abigail can. Already, the girl begins to doubt that she will be much a part of the vanguard going against the monsters, especially as is, for she can't really yield a weapon at the moment. Perhaps she will have a seat planning the strategy, but it seems Adamus will be doing most of that. There must be some point to her, though. Abigail hopes so, anyway.
When the debriefing is over, Abigail has no questions- none that will not be answered over time, anyway. She is excited despite herself, for the girl has always had a place in her heart for old things, and being able to celebrate a holiday in the genuine fashion is a somewhat exciting prospect for her, though it appears that not everyone shares this opinion. She notices Darren deliberately staying in the area of the rest of the group, but thinks nothing of it. People are pack animals of sorts, after all, even those raised in highly individualistic cultures. She, personally, continues on towards her personal room to find what has been left for her.
Tristan doesn't seem to notice Abigail's response, honestly having already moved along to the next subject at hand. He hasn't always had the longest of attention spans, something well known by several of the people who were employed by him- his manager, manager's assistant, driver of the tour bus, etc. He may have been able to work towards his musical career, but that was an exception rather than a rule in his life. He is constantly changing various little things, even if the larger picture continues to remain intact. He gives a smile to ever person who enters the courtyard individually, though his gaze continues to dance from person to person to person. He is far more fond of looking at people than at the various details of this great structure. He has always been like that- more focused on people than items, on social spheres than material wealth. Perhaps this is part of his social competency.
Eventually, further conversation comes about, as Piper inquires after how the rest of the party had slept last night. Tristan, personally, had slept like a baby. He's always been a very heavy sleeper, leading to constant tardies back in his school days. It was something which had bothered his parents very much, in fact. "No need for those, thank you," the young man responds cheerily, remaining somewhat polite in the statement. "I sleep like a log, regardless of where I am doing so, as it happens," he adds, running a hand through his hair, as is his tendency to do with little to no reason. It's a very meaningless habit, but then, most of his are.
When Piper states, seeming concerned, that she is talking too much, he raises his eyebrow before grinning, "Well, if that's true, you're in great company." He refers partially to himself, of course, though many assorted figures might be inserted into this vague 'company'. It is clear that no one is feeling particularly talkative, so he is glad when two of their instructors enter, the woman reminding him more of a stern schoolteacher than the man, despite her prettiness and youth.
They go through a spiel about how people should conduct themselves, and briefly touching on how their education is to go about. He is more interested in their physical training, being in rather good shape himself- he must, to keep the slightly more shallow fans' attention riveted onto him and his career. Given his gifts for sleight of hand, as well, his first thought is that he'd do best with something lightweight and close-combat, like a dagger or something along those lines.
When they finish off, he is quite ready to go, admittedly somewhat curious as to what this 'formal attire' will look like. Regardless, he is quite interested in the mentioned food, only just realizing how hungry he is. So, he walks, taking care to remain somewhat near others as he does so. Someone must have a room near his, after all.