02-10-2018, 11:34 PM
The automatic doors parted for the Quarterback of Chaos, closing behind the middle-aged prime as he entered the building. The main lobby was closed off from the rest of the building. A young adult sat at the far reception desk, twiddling a stylus in his fingers as he looked down at his tablet. Occasionally, he tapped it, writing something down or swiping something to the side; he didn't acknowledge Warren.
Instead of perhaps an assistant or secretary, the prime was greeted by a robot. A standard silver protocol droid - a bipedal machine about as tall as Warren. It answered his silent question. "Welcome to the Armament Registration Office. If you wish to apply for weapon licensing for tiers one and two of Coruscant, please fill out the forms on a terminal to your left. Queries may be directed towards me, I am here for your convenience." While synthetic and unnatural, the voice was smooth sounding, speaking in what would generally be considered a calming tone.
Instead of perhaps an assistant or secretary, the prime was greeted by a robot. A standard silver protocol droid - a bipedal machine about as tall as Warren. It answered his silent question. "Welcome to the Armament Registration Office. If you wish to apply for weapon licensing for tiers one and two of Coruscant, please fill out the forms on a terminal to your left. Queries may be directed towards me, I am here for your convenience." While synthetic and unnatural, the voice was smooth sounding, speaking in what would generally be considered a calming tone.