Suzuya Kuzunoha
Suzuya hadn't expected Tesni of all people to approach her after their disaster of a first patrol together offering an ice cream cone of all things to her. She stared with no small degree of uncertainty before gingerly taking the offered treat, her own magical heat dimming as she felt the wrapped confection soften at just her touch. As much as the loud, boisterous, and spontaneously violent girl seemed anethma to her reserved sensibilities, her waiting for Oliva had given her time to consider her fellow Magical Girls more.
And for the life of her, she couldn't find anything to hold against the Monkey. Just thinking of those giggling clown girls made her consider the swinging of the world's largest measuring stick rather appropriate.
So she quietly if amicably enjoyed ice cream with her tea, only later coming to regret the combination as her stomach went into open revolt over something besides the heavy greases in local foods. But that was after meeting her roommate once more, only for her planned tea time to be swept away with explosions and concerns that had them trotting off back into the school to investigate.
Suzuya was concerned this school was turning out to be more Yankee by the day.
The concerns over American influence prooved unfounded, as the pair of German Magical Girls would attest if one was not serving as an educator and sentencing them to spending their evening in some manner of training room. It was amusing to think that if one looked past the flagrant use of magic, the room she now stood in with mixed wonder and concern was the only peculiarity for a school of Merrywell's stated mission seperating it from any other school.
Her concern was entirely typical for her, a low level aversion to the new and dangerous that her Grimoire wanted to strangle out of her, but the awe was keeping it contented for the moment as her eyes roamed the scraps of robots past. Robots. Robots! If there was every a Magical Girl to fabricate mecha, Suzuya was starting to believe it was the one with arms that could shoot firewords, and her tentative hope was turning into a wildfire even without her transforming.
She found herself turning to her roommate, that same determination to get on better terms after her patrol still firm in her chest, and asked Olivia the first thing that sought to escape her mind. "Do you think sensei does commisions?"