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Summary
The beginning wasn't great for a lot of them. But for Ryoshu, seeing the gore of people screaming for their life as they go into the machine was enough to make her crave more. However there was no one enthusiastic like she was, so all she got was mixed horror, complete uncaring, or just curiosity. Or thought she was crazy but that isn't really new no matter where she worked.
Her eyes did eventually land on someone though. She was small, skittish, and her eyes were filled with pure terror. No muted reactions. Art. She strolled her way over, pulling the cigarette out from her lips, "Sinclair."
