Raising an eyebrow at the commotion outside, Professor Hannibal Williams returned to the arduous tasks of unpacking and cleaning. The facilities were just in absolutely unacceptable condition, no doubt due to the tropical nature of this little hideaway. The comforting odor of coffee wafted through the room as a pot brewed in the back corner of his office, or rather, the sty that passed for one.<br/><br/>Spiders in the shelves. Cobwebs. Dust. And some multicolored stain from a substance of indeterminate nature. Combined with the cloying odors of formaldehyde and decay, the filth served to present a rather unwelcome impression. At least the coffee was good. And at least the labs themselves remained relatively tidy. He was glad to have arrived with the first wave of transports. Azathoth knows how hectic the scramble for storage space would become later.<br/><br/>With a tired sigh, Williams deposited the mop and bucket outside the door, poured himself a cup of coffee, and reclined at his desk. He resolved to brew up something aromatic later to do away with the last stubborn remnants of the smell. Methyl salicylate, perhaps. Or limonene. Yes, limonene. He always did love that citrusy scent.<br/><br/>Later. After the morning coffee was had. Then he'd be able to function.