The laboratory downstairs was dark and expansive, sprawling down several levels into the ground beneath the Mystery Shack. The air was thick with dust, and cobwebs could be found in just about every corner—a testament to just how long the place had been abandoned for. A vast array of lights flickered in shades of blue and red on bulky metal machines that lined the concrete walls, most of their purposes unknown to all but the owner of the lab: Stanford Pines.
Ford himself was seated in a cheap, simple black office chair, situated in front of a bulky desk with a number of books and loose paper stacked wherever they could fit: on top of a neighboring machine, next to a small CRT with a picture of Dipper and Mabel beside it, even making their way up to the thick glass that stood between his work station and the space that once held the interdimensional portal that he had spent decades on the other side of.
Though he was initially engrossed in his work—no doubt writing about some anomalous creature living within the nearby woods, or working on some complicated equation tied to any number of experiments he had picked back up in his time back in this dimension—his head snapped up the instant he heard the hum of the elevator leaving the third basement level. His expression soured somewhat; he wasn’t particularly fond of anyone else coming down here, with Dipper being one of the notable exceptions. Still, he allowed himself a few moments to wrap up what he was doing so he could properly address whoever it was—and send them back upstairs in a timely manner.
