Where in the Telaurian is Gregor Fultt?

[Ashley McGowen]

She'd been meaning to call him this evening anyway: the discovery of Gregor's disappearance simply adds a little urgency, makes it more of a shit-what-should-we-do call instead of a courtesy call. He can tell when she asks him to head over to the chantry that there's a problem: there's a note of suppressed anger there, laid over concern, which she has never been as comfortable expressing. When he arrives in the chantry she's pacing the inside of the front room, arms folded. Her shoes are still on, though it's warm enough now that she's forsaken the coat. The knuckles of one hand are red. Otherwise, she appears mostly to have recomposed herself. She turns toward the door when she hears it open, glances over her shoulder and waits.

[Wharil Choc]

Wharil wasn't dressed for work today, mundane or otherwise. When he arrives its in the basic t-shirt and jeans combo that makes up his downtime-wear. The ubiquitous messenger bag is missing as well. Ashley sounded disturbed. This, in turn, disturbed Wharil. His brows were fixed into something like anger, but his eyes...his eyes were all fear. "What's going on?" He asks, forgoing introductions as he moves to sit near Ashley's good side.

[Ashley McGowen]

He sits down, and after a moment the Hermetic does as well. Not relaxed, sprawled in the chair as she often is when he finds his way in some evenings; she sits so that her feet touch the floor, which necessitates sitting close to the edge (ah, the life of the vertically challenged.) He's on her good side, and her eyes come up to meet his after they've both had a seat. "Gregor," she says, and then glances back toward the stairs, jerks her chin in their general direction. "Owen and Emily gave me some bad news, so I came by to tell him before I got a hold of you. His room's a mess...it looks like he summoned something. Willingly. But still. I think it dragged him past the Gauntlet. I tried to scry him out and I can't find him." There's a measured exhale and her eyes trail away, hand coming up to tug at her lower lip for a few seconds before she adds, "We have to find some way to contact him, or go after him, or..."

[Wharil Choc]

The furrow in his brow only deepens when she mentions their cabal mate, as does his fear. Wharil doesn't interrupt. He lets her explain what's happened, or what she thinks has happened. He lets a quick sigh, just as she runs out of words. "...Right...right. We'll...we'll just uh...Lets check on his room. Lets start from there."

[Ashley McGowen]

Ashley nods, and pushes herself up out of the chair to head back up to the room. She'd slammed the door shut in a fit of anger upon the discovery, and the hallway is dark; she finds her way back to Gregor's room by trailing her fingertips along the wall until she finds the doorknob. She pushes the door open and steps inside, heading further into the room so Wharil can follow. She hasn't disturbed anything: except for his gloves, which she used when she attempted to scry him out and laid back down again by his jacket, the rest of the room is as she found it. Chunks of mirror reflect their forms back up at them as they stand there and move about. As Wharil moves around to investigate Ashley glances toward the jacket she gave him lying in the corner, picks it up and hangs it on the doorknob. She lets him go about his work, brooding and silent.

[Wharil Choc]

Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 4, 7, 8, 8, 8, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 6 at target 6) Re-rolls: 1 Wharil enters the room and immediately stands at the center. He doesn't move anything. Not at first. No at first he simply stands there, eyes scanning the room until his gaze has fallen on every corner, and his body has turned full circle. And then his eyes close. For a time there's only breathing. Only quiet. One can see his face relaxing, the muscles in his neck. His shoulders carry lower. He is emptying in himself. And in turn, he is filling himself with everything that surrounds him. [Perc (Hidden Things) + Awareness (Emotions)]

[Wharil Choc]

Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 2, 5, 6, 8 (Success x 1 at target 6) His eyes pop open again, almost at the very same moment that his feet start to carry him closer to the shattered mirror. His face is still passive, as if in dreaming. But his eyes are open. Wide open. He doesn't touch any of it. Not yet. But he does kneel, casting his eyes over this shard and the other. Over the collection of them all. Over the room, and how they all fit in there. [Perc+Occult]

[Wharil Choc]

Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 2, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6) Re-rolls: 2 (Scrap that last roll) [Perc+Investigation]

[Wharil Choc]

Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 2, 4, 5, 5, 5, 7, 7, 8, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6) [Now: Int+Occult+Suxx of Investigation roll]

[Wharil Choc]

Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 4, 8, 9 (Success x 3 at target 3) Still kneeling, he reaches absently into his back pocket. Ashley has seen the leather pouch he wears, but has she ever seen inside it? Has she ever seen him reach in for a pinch of ash and cast it into the air as he does now? Has she ever seen the odd way he watches the fine powder dance in the air, almost as if he were looking at something...beyond? [Spirit Sight - Diff 4, -1 for focus]

[Ashley McGowen]

She can tell he's trying to relax and focus by the way his breathing slows, grows deeper, and doesn't disturb him while he investigates. She already made her own investigations earlier and picked up what she could within the room, and he's much better at it. Ashley's back and shoulders come to rest against the nearby wall and she slides down to her haunches, tilting her head against the wall and trying to calm down in turn. To forget that she's angry and worried long enough for the two of them to assess what has to be done and formulate a plan of action.

[Wharil Choc]

And finally, he replaces the leather pouch, sinching it tight again before it disappears into the pocket of his jeans. His other hand goes into another pocket and comes out with a handkerchief. He lays it flat. He places a shard of glass on it. He wipes at something on the ground with a corner of it. He kneels there...staring...for what seems like too long. When he speaks, he's obviously distracted. "I...I'll need some time. Need time to make sense of this."