As he tossed the tactical belt off to the side, the young police officer finally let himself sink into the confines of his bed of his own as if it'd been a long day. Truth of the matter was that, it truly has been quite busy - and it's been like that over the past couple of weeks. As of late, the Atlas had a sudden spike in its own criminal activities, and the sudden political unrest about the Prime Minister of the Legion having worked with White Fangs caused some of the more 'crazed' conspiracy-theorists had gone as far as attempting to take the matters into their own hands.

At times like these, a civil unrest was the last thing that this kingdom needed when the world itself was already in a turmoil. Of course, the LPD was doing all that they could do keep things in line, but they had so many men and women out there. The commissioners in different departments spread throughout the Atlas have even gone as far as recruiting local Hunters and Huntresses who happened to be active over the area. 

Of course, when the police department had found out that he was a Hunter by all standards, they went as far as suddenly putting him on a tight schedule. They truly were wringing all that they could out of him. However, desperate times truly called for some desperate measures, but he knew he wasn't the only fighting out there. He thought about Ceyla, how she was handling all of this. As a Prime Minister, the amount of stress on her shoulders must've been absolutely crushing. He tried to be there for her all he could, but their own responsibilities have always called for them elsewhere rather than in the comfort in each others' arms. Alburn certainly hoped that she didn't hate him for it when he didn't have the time to check back to some of the text messages she'd sent him on the scroll, or like the time when he couldn't pick up his calls. 

With stress and exhaustion overwhelming his body, the officer rubbed the bridge of his nose as he aimlessly looked up to the ceiling. Ceyla was a strong woman, but at the same time, he knew she could be broken just as easily like a porcelain doll. It didn't take much. He was aware of the damage done on her by the world she lived in. Regardless of what people might've thought, the women was yet riddled with unseen scars. This was what he came to realize the more he'd spent time with her. Both scars, and wounds that remained unmended by the passage of time. At the very least, she seemed to have good supporters around her at the tower - those who believed in her when he wasn't around. He thanked whatever higher power was up there for that. 

As Alburn slowly rose from his seat, he took the time to tidy the apartment as it remained severely uncleaned for the last few days. He wasn't going to have much of a chance to gets things organized, and sit down with a cup of coffee for once with the things were going. As he'd began to pick up the laundry pile and put it off to the machine to work with it at a later time, a sudden bell ring had alerted his senses. It was 2200 in the evening, so who in their right minds decided to ring the doorbell of all times? No doubt it was probably one of those guys from the investigation groups. These guys always had awful tendencies to show their faces in the oddest of hours, but given the kind of work they did, it couldn't be helped. 

"What is it this time?" 

With an annoyed grunt leaving him, he headed towards the door, opening it to see who was so rude to visit him at such late hours. If it happened to be one of those guys from investigation groups, then they were going to have to deal with the fact that he was off-duty for the night. He didn't want to go back into the iron prison of a patrol car again. 

ulla