Eye's astral form moes up and through the astral plane. His form melts through the ether, going farther, leaving the plane of existance. his form melts away moving to a higher existance. His form loses cohesiveness, and then stops. There is only blackness beyond. Waiting in the darkness is a figure. A sihlouette cloaked in darkness, barely discernable in the ethereal mist.

Eyes stands in the dusty blackness of the metaplane, feeling the mana of the place course around his very essence, what may be his very soul. He stands there in his perfect form, a slim and fit man, wearing a mix of tribal and detective noir clothing, in classic black and white, just like this place. His long flowing hair is tied back behind him, his facial hair trimmed and groomed slick, blank skin where his eyes would be, in their place a pair of reactive glasses on the bridge of his nose. The glasses reshape as his eyes would, narrowing in focus or anger, growing wide in fear or surprise, arching in a quizzical nature when needed.

Noticing the other figure in the darkness, Eyes turns his senses to the being, his glasses arching in the quizzical nature that is needed.

The shrouded figure moves forward, coming more in to focus. It's an older native man, his skin sun darkened and slightly wrinkled. His gray hair falls losely across his back and tribal leathers, strung with owl feathers. His gray eyes are sharp and piercing, shot with a cold yellow. His look is immediately reminiscent of an owl's.

Who are you to trespass into these realms mortal? This knowledge is not for one as weak as you. You have no strength to dedicate you to the purer path. Now you prove it by seeking forbidden knowledge. You are not welcome here.

Doing something he hadn't done for ages, Eyes sent out a silent mental prayer to the spirits of his people. Oh spirits of my father, oh spirits of the land, give me strength here so that I may help those who need it, so that I may save a little boy's life.

Spirit, I am he is known as Eyes, also called Aiden Mahpee, a disciple of the Owl, a child of knowledge and hidden lore. I come here seeking forbidden knowledge, I know that, but it is not for power. I come here for the life of a child, kidnapped by those who wield this power, this forbidden knowledge, and also for the lives of the other children that they may have as well. My purpose is for the lives of the innocent, what I consider to be among the purest of paths.

Eyes stands unflinching in the gaze of the spirit, feeling the weight of its piercing gaze burrowing into his soul, searching him for truth, for lies, for purpose. Eyes returns the gaze in kind, knowing that this may be the only way to save the boy.

You are arrogant and head strong. You give justifications to slake your thirst for knowledge. You would have walked this path eventually were there a life in the balance or not. Your entire life is a series of justifications and moral compromises. You have no moral high ground to stand on.

Eyes stands stumped in front of the spirit, his words lost in his mind as to how to respond to the aspect that so resembles his own totemic mentor.

I...I....cannot say that the temptation does not present itself appealing to me. And I cannot say that I have not contemplated what the techniques I may learn here may do for my own personal power. But each of my contemplations ends the same way, with a complete and utter sense of disgust and disconnection with myself. The power may be appealing, but it is not for me, not now and not ever. You are right, I may not do what I do for a greater moral purpose, the wealth presented in my job is of a great appeal to me, but now that is not what drives me. The use of the power that those I am against is in a manner that is completely wrong and against nature, a perversion that grants them powers greater than myself and my companions. There defeat of my attempts to track them angered me and I do wish for nothing more now than finding them and stopping them, for all the reasons presented: the money, the children, and also for the sense of pride that I have in my art. I know that is not the best of reasons to search for knowledge here, but I am here nonetheless.

Eyes droops slightly after revealing so much of himself to the spirit, not knowing whether or not it was going to strike him down for his motives or what. Eyes stood there worn in his own revelations.

Roll Willpower Test

Edge?

Why? What the hell is going on? If I am being targeted by a spell I get counterspelling and such. Why am I rolling?

The Dweller on the Threshold shrinks back inthot he ether it sprang from. The gray mists seem to draw in upon Eyes, shrouding everything around him in an impenatrable gray haze, blocking even his own body from sight. He hears before he see.s The sharp *clack clack* of heels on hard wood, a steady walking pace.

He sits back in his chair, his feet coming off his desk. Have to look presentable if someone's coming in. Haven't had a case in weeks. He slides his hat back off his head, setting the gray fadora on top of the gray desk. Sometimes he yearned to see colors besides black and whites and shades of gray, but that was the life.

The door read "Eyes Maphee - Wizard". Simple and to the point. A good man to go to if you needed something found, something lost, or something banished. Just don't come looking for love potions.

The door swung open, and at the first look, he could tell she was going to be trouble. Legs up to there covered by a short gray skirt. Her graay blouse let just enough of her white blouse show from underneath, as her light gray hair pooled aruond her shoulder. She smiled nervously as she walked in the office, looking from side to side to see if maybe there was a spirit or hellhound in the corner. Finding none, she softly cleared her throat.

"Mr Maphee? I .... I need your help."

Eyes rises from his chair and crosses around to the other side of his desk, offering his hand to the lovely thing that had just entered his office and asked for his help. He regretted every step of it. She was going to be nothing but trouble, he could tell before she even asked for his help, but he couldn't help himself. Chivalry ran deep in his blood and like a junkie, he couldn't say no when such a tempting offer presented itself.

"Hello, Miss...?" he offered his hand to her while inquiring her name. "I'm sorry I didn't catch your name, though it does seem that you know mine." With his other hand, Eyes offers her the chair on the client side of his desk, pulling it out for her to sit in.

It .. it was on the door Mr Maphee.

My name is Betty. Betty Greyheart. I know this is a bit unexpected but ....

You see it's my brother Mr Maphee. He's dissapeared. Gregory never goes anywhere, and now he's just gone. He isn't answering his phone, and he isn't with any of his friends.... the police won't do anything. They say he's a grown man and can come an go as he pleases but I jsut know something's wrong! Can you help me Mr Maphee?

The plea in her cool grey eyes is easy to see.... when Eyes isn't swimming in them.

Eyes clears his throat slightly, a bit caught up in the depths of Miss Greyheart's eyes. He motions for her to take a seat as he crosses back to his own seat on the other side of the desk, pulling a white pad of paper from his gray desk drawer and a black pen for the stack of papers on his desk. Clearing his throat again, Eyes pulls his seat closer to the desk and looks back across at Ms. Greyheart, careful not to fall into her eyes again. Damn, but she does have a gorgeous gaze that one.

Taking his pen and paper up his hands, "So, Miss Greyheart, tell me more about your brother. When was the last time you saw him? What kind of people does he normally associate with? Has he been acting strangely recently? Also, do you have anything that he may hold dear or that he has in is possession often? That can be of some help as well."

Gregory has his own business. A lamp shop down on Delaware street. I saw him two days ago and he looked ... worried. But I can't imagine him having any enemies! He's my brother, and he's just not like that! But he hasn't returned my calls and I jsut have this horrible feeling something's happened to him. Maybe the police are right and he has just gone off somewhere. But I have to know that he's ok. If you can find him, and just contact me ..... if he's safe, you dont' have to bother him.

I don't really have anything of ihs. Maybe ... in his house? I don't have a key though.

"Thank you for the information. Don't worry, I will look into this for you. I am sure there is nothing wrong, but just in case you know. I will check out his business and his house." Standing, Eyes offers her a piece of paper to write down her brother's business address and home address, as well as pulling a preprinted Client Contract from his desk drawer for her to fill out and sign.

The addresses and isue of money are quickly handled. She supplies $200 up front, saying that money is no object where her borther is concerned.

"I'm sure you have many clients, but I hope that you can look for my brother as soon as possible. I've written my number there along with his address. Please call me?

Grabbing his fedora as well as his overcoat hung on the rack next to the door, Eyes shows her the way out as he leaves himself, "I am going to check in on it right now. I will contact you if I find anything out." With a warm smile her walks her down the five flights of stairs to the front door of the building, apologizing for the constantly broken elevator in the building.

After saying their goodbyes, Eyes starts off towards the Lamp shop, figuring that it may still be open, since it is a business day and all.

Arriving at An Illuminating Experience, Eyes infact finds the shop closed. The hours sign is posted and says that it should be open, but the door remains locked. There is a small sign noting an alarm in place.

The shop it's self is on the small side. It could easily be a one man show. The large bay windows in the front are covered by blinds from the inside as is the mostly glass door.

Letting out a slight sigh, there's always alarms, Eyes makes his way around to the back of the shop, hoping for a back door to be present. Back doors are always very helpful, usually with a lighter lock so that any cleaning crew can do there work, and also because they aren't the first place that the Star will come to when the alarm goes off. They always go to the front, every single time.

The back door is a worn wooden shape flat against the wal. There is no handle on this side, only a lock.

Roll Perception (Visual)

Eyes kneels down in the alley and looks over the lock, noting the scratches and imperfections of it, as well as the other signs of tampering present. Someone's been here before me, but they didn't get any farther than this. Gregory, what have you gotten yourself into my boy?

Pulling out a set of lockpicks that he doesn't have any training for, Eyes sets to work with them, hoping that even without the training he may do better than the person before him.

Through fumbling and more than a littel brute ofrce and luck, Eyes manages to jimmy the door, geting just enogh wiggle out of the weak lock. Who ever here before must have really not known what they were doing.

The shop it's self is ,ironically, dark. Lamps of all shapes and sizes adorn the walls, ceiling, and floor. The ceilings here are high, and a set of stairs leads up to a small loft making it a floor and a half. There's a large wooden desk for processing orders, and a restroom. Everything seems to be in order.

Thanking the spirits that he was able to get the lock picks to work properly, Eyes ducks into the shop, pulling the door nearly closed behind him, enough to make it still appear closed from outside. Quickly scanning the room for anyone, Eyes crosses to the desk briskly, careful not to disturb anything in his wake. He makes a quick scan of the coverings of the desk, looking in particular for a calendar or planner of recent meetings or clients. Whether or not he finds it, Eyes then moves to the stairs, listening carefully for any noises upstairs as he makes his way up.

There's nothing of aprticular interest on the down stairs office desk. No sounds from above either. The place is quiet, in that discomforting way when you feel like there should be something there, but there isn't. It has a feeling of abandonment to it. The upstairs is a bit more cluttered, with the appearance of a frequently used, and rather busy office.

Bingo

Eyes quickly scans the room for signs of someone being there recently and then crosses to the desk, looking it over for the same things he was searching for downstairs, as well as something that looks like Gregory was either very fond of or handle with a high frequency. Easier to gaze into what Gregory is like like that. Careful not to disturb much or to leave his prints anywhere, Eyes goes to work.

There doesn't seem to be any kind ofrifling being done here. It's a mess, but an organized mess. The one thing that does stand out though is the phone book. It's open to a hotel's page.

Eyes steps around the desk to check out the ad for the hotel, quickly jotting down the info on the place. Making sure that everything still looks undisturbed, he then moves back downstairs and out the way he came in.

Motherfraggin' phonebooks...

Eyes looks over the page of oh so numerous hotel listings and sighs while cursing his luck. Gotta do this hard way then Without touching the phonebook, Eyes leans in as close as he can and studies the page, hoping that Gregory wrote down the information on the hotel on another piece of paper on top of the phonebook and that it left an imprint on the page. If that fails to reveal anything, Eyes will lay his hands right above the phonebook and try to psychometrically assense something from the page, hopefully the place Gregory went to to.

The impression is extremely faint. It takes Eyes a moment to realize that he is infact sensing something. He seems to havea feeling of ... relief... at the ad for the Evergreen Suites. It advertises it as a long term suite rental.

Quickly jotting down the address of the Evergreen Suites, Eyes stuffs his notepad into his coat, moving to quickly vacate the premise. On his way out his eye catches sight of a picture of what is apparently Gregory with his sister, Eyes' client. Snatching it up as he passes by, Eyes bolts down the stairs and back outside, knowing that if there was an actual alarm on the building that he had almost overstayed his due. It was off to the Evergreen Suites now.

Evergreen suites lives up to it's name at least. Situated away from the main city up in the hills, the hotel is surrounded by evergrays. The buildings them selves are done in dark grays and forest gray colors, blending well into the surrounding trees. There are only a few cars out side at this time of day, but the establishment seems to be in good condition, and doing well for it's self.

This is quite a nice place for a lamp maker..... Eyes gazes upon the hotel's grounds as he approaches in his beat up old SK-Volkswagen Beetle, a dinged, dented and scratched little multi-shaded junker. It used to be charcoal gray, but the door was replaced with an off white piece, the hood black, the trunk light gray, but it was fairly reliable and it was his, something that Eyes could appreciate.

Pulling off the driveway before actually reaching the hotel, Eyes pulls the faded picture of Gregory and his sister from his glove box, finally taking the time to fully examine the details of it. They look happy, like real family. Wonder what the hell happened... Closing his eyes and extending his senses into the photograph, Eyes probes and examines it for details on Gregory, his life, the recent past, and what may be going on with the man now. Better to know what he is facing than go in unprepared.

The photograph gives off feelings off warm affection and a sense of great history, with a sharp, tangy "after taste" of confusion and fear.

It's something recent that has caused these changes in our boy, but what? Eyes ponders it for a second, but gives up, lacking the proper amount of any sort of evidence to help him. Finally pulling his junker of a car up to the hotel, Eyes steps out and heads inside, straightening his fedora and duster on the way in. Giving the lobby a once over, hoping that Gregory just may be in there but knowing that he most likely isn't, before approaching the receptionist.

"Excuse me, I am looking for my friend Gregory Greyheart, could point me in the right direction of his room?" Eyes asks with a smile, removing his fedora as he does so.

The receptionist smiles, her gray eyes lighting up. Apaprently she fancies Eyes a bit.

"Relation sir?"

Maintaining his winning smile Eyes replies, "Oh, I'm a friend of the family." He lays his hand on the top of desk, as close to hers as he can without touching her, keeping his eyes and his smile on her while he does. "I'm just stopping by to say hello is all."

The young woman smiles again, showing off her pearly gray's. She lokos through some parpers quickly, looking up occassionally to smile. " He's in B 24 sir. Here, let me write that down for you." She quickly jots the room number down on the back of a business card for the hotel, as if Eye's was likely to forget. She scrolls another quick number on it as well. "That's my personal line, ... incase you should have any problems. Feel free to call for anything, ok?"

"That I will do," says Eyes with a wink as he pockets the business card, "Thank you so much for the help." He nods his head to her with a smile as he turns to the stairs to head up to the second floor.

B22.....B23.....ahhh B24, here we are.

Eyes stops in front of the door of Gregory's room, looking it over before letting his eyes fall out of focus, bringing up his sight to check for anything more on the door.

The rooms are arrayed in an almost Motel 6 style. All on the ouisde of buidlings, along small walkways, with one window facing out. The difference being of course that these are bigger, and stretch farther, and have no other rooms behind them, meaning that the rear room acutally has windows facing the landscape, instead of just another rooms bathroom.

It takes a moment to spot it. The room it's self is infact covered by a discrete, and masked, warding categorized strength 6

Oh, isn't this just lovely? Not suspicious at all...

Eyes lets his sight fall away as he adjusts himself, preparing his mind and magical defenses in case there is trouble. Taking a breath to steady himself, Eyes knocks a quick double tap on the door, listening for steps and other sounds from the other side.

There's some sounds from within of movement, then a moment later, a man hollers out: "I told you I don't need any turning down or new towels. Please, I need some privacy.

Clearing his throat slightly, Eyes speaks to the man on the other side of the door with a slightly apologetic but also commanding voice, "Sorry to bother you Mr. Greyheart, but I am not here to turn down your room. I actually need to speak with you for a minute if you would be so kind as allow me a few moments of your time."

There's a moments hesitation... " Who are you? What do you want?"

There is defintely a cautious edge to it.

"I am just a friend of your sister's is all. She is simply worried about you and she asked me to check in with you, make sure you are doing fine, alive, all that jazz," replies the smiling detective-mage as he slowly creeps his hands behind his back to his holstered Hammerli...just in case.