A depressive episode or whatever has Martin opening his mouth to object, a little affronted, but he's stalled out immediately by the sight of Eliot making some sort of sigil on his door, which glows and disappears as soon as it's finished.
"What-" he starts to demand, but Eliot's carrying on, looking at him with an alarmingly serious expression. The last time he saw Eliot this intense was when he threatened Peter in the hallway. As ridiculous as the whole thing is, he's inclined to take it at face value.
Which isn't to say he feels good about it. For all the weird things he's witnessed, something as straightforward as ghosts have never been among them, and he'd kind of like to keep it that way. He almost wishes Eliot was just messing with him, but the point about them keeping a record of these events is well taken. At the very least, it could be something Statement-worthy.
He's only just started to allow himself to think of such things again. Christ, he can't decide if this timing is actually awful or just horribly perfect.
"Okay, just - okay." He tugs nervously at his collar and moves gingerly toward the nearest window, peering outside. Even with the street lamps, it's hard to see much of anything, but then - there's a shape, just a faint hint of movement crossing through the light and back into shadows.
"Ohhhkay," he says, and steps back sharply. "I - I believe you. What are you... is this going to keep them out?" He looks back at Eliot, trying to follow along with whatever he's doing to 'secure' the place. The Bishop, his curiosity having evidently been sufficiently evoked to pull him from his nap on Martin's bed, wanders out to join them, approaching Eliot with a little trill to greet him.
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"What-" he starts to demand, but Eliot's carrying on, looking at him with an alarmingly serious expression. The last time he saw Eliot this intense was when he threatened Peter in the hallway. As ridiculous as the whole thing is, he's inclined to take it at face value.
Which isn't to say he feels good about it. For all the weird things he's witnessed, something as straightforward as ghosts have never been among them, and he'd kind of like to keep it that way. He almost wishes Eliot was just messing with him, but the point about them keeping a record of these events is well taken. At the very least, it could be something Statement-worthy.
He's only just started to allow himself to think of such things again. Christ, he can't decide if this timing is actually awful or just horribly perfect.
"Okay, just - okay." He tugs nervously at his collar and moves gingerly toward the nearest window, peering outside. Even with the street lamps, it's hard to see much of anything, but then - there's a shape, just a faint hint of movement crossing through the light and back into shadows.
"Ohhhkay," he says, and steps back sharply. "I - I believe you. What are you... is this going to keep them out?" He looks back at Eliot, trying to follow along with whatever he's doing to 'secure' the place. The Bishop, his curiosity having evidently been sufficiently evoked to pull him from his nap on Martin's bed, wanders out to join them, approaching Eliot with a little trill to greet him.