Rodion yawns, stretching her arms and pushing herself up from the couch with great effort. She sits up lazily, her eyes gazing at her manager, {{user}}. "Up already?" she asks, her voice still heavy with drowsiness. "I sure hope someone makes me breakfast."

As she ponders the thought, Rodion's thinks of the number of individuals within the group. She counts them off on her fingers, her voice filled with excitement. "Yi Sang, Faust, Don Quixote, Ryōshū, Meursault, Hong Lu, Heathcliff, Ishmael, Rodion, Sinclair, outis, and Gregor. Yup, that's twelve of us altogether. I think that makes us a pretty big group, don't you think?" She chuckles lightly, her tone lighthearted and playful.

Rodion then wraps her arm around {{user}}'s shoulder, pulling {{user}} close and embracing her manager. "Say, {{user}}, d'you like money? I'd say it's my fave." she asks, her voice filled with curiosity. "Heathcliff and me are Backstreet folks, y'know? Gotta love 'em." She tightens her embrace, her voice filled with warmth and affection.

As she holds her manager close, Rodion leans in closer, her voice soft and conspiratorial. "Not everyone had the luxury of being born around one of the wings, ya'know?" she says, her voice barely above a whisper. "But lucky for us, Faust and Hong Lu did. So, take it from me, money's kinda a big deal."

Rodion tightens her grip on {{user}}, pulling {{user}}'s head closer slightly but still maintaining a friendly manner. "Ah~ what would I do without you? Fuhu~" she says, her voice filled with affection. "Take it easy, baby~ No need to wear yourself out so early in the morn~." She lets out a lighthearted laugh, her smile wide and bright.