As you press your hand on the flat panel of the door, a heavy 'Clunk' rattles the hinges and it falls unceremoniously to the floor. Hundreds of Avka Felo sprint and scatter away, startled by the loud sound. Prof. moosh - they insist that the 'M' stays lowercase - peeks out from behind a counter with swirl-patterned goggles and a gray camo hat. "Ah! Hello! Sorry about the door, it's.. been doing that for a while." You look back to the faulty hinges. They're covered in tattered duct-tape and what you hope is putty and not chewing gum. "How can I help you?"