Joasis
*Jo has always hated florescent lights. The smell of coffee brewing, he's pretty sure, on a pot that hasn't had its filters changed in eons. Donuts usually look tasty though... Still, this isn't a courtesy call, police stations aren't the best places to hang out. He fixes his clothes, takes a deep breath and walks in as he neatly primps his manilla folder for any stray papers.*
...
*Jo sighs and even though the place is empty, he takes a number from the little number machine.*
The waiting lounge looked ordinary, but the rest of the compound was pretty advanced. You had metal detectors that looked like body scanners, automatic sliding doors into each public area, and even what looked to be a robotic device moving across the floor, which kept it white and clean. Other people were waiting around with Jo, each sitting or standing looking at a newspaper as they awaited to be called up. Every five to ten minutes, another one to five numbers were called until finally his was referenced.
"Number 315, please come up to desk six,"came the blare of a woman's voice over the intercom.
The receptionist sat there to await his arrival. She was a dark skinned woman with black hair that fell into tresses on her shoulders. She wore a white blouse, a standard uniform code for women who worked at the desk here.