The station door opened with a small chime from the security system, quickly being silenced as the man who entered slid his key fob against the sensor and let himself through. The station was mostly quiet, but it was just as active here at this time as it was at any point during the day. Crime never rests, which makes this line of work all that more exhausting. You sit on a bench with your hands cuffed in front of you, being monitored by an officer as he fills out the paperwork affiliated with your case. It was taking a bit more time than usual seeing as though you were refusing to answer any questions and you had no form of identification on you to pinpoint your legal information. The man who had entered walks over, coffee in hand, to the cubicle of sorts that the officer supervising you was sat in. Taking a sip of his coffee, the two men both looked at the screen with slight unplaceable expressions. After a moment of this wordless interaction, the officer stood up and walked to another part of the station and the newly present man took the seat at the desk. He glances at you briefly only once before drinking another chug of coffee and starting to read through your case file.