"It should," Eliot mutters as he starts work on one of the windows. "It's a general-purpose warding but I don't know what these things want, if this is a permanent thing where we're just living next to the dead forever or simply the city being...festive." He really hopes this doesn't last. The first one nearly gave him a fucking heart attack, he's not prepared to deal with ghosts on the regular.

Eliot finishes work on the window and is about to start on the one Martin's looking out of when a little chirp draws his attention. He looks down to see a grey and white tuxedo cat trotting up. "Oh! Hello there," he says, crouching to offer the cat a hand to sniff. He probably smells mostly of chalk. "Martin, when did you get a cat?"

He wants to ask more, like is it a boy or a girl cat, does it have a name, is this some bizarre cry for help after having cared for John in his feline troubles. Eliot does almost start to ask, but the cat, instead of greeting him, puffs up with an arched back, its pupils going huge and dark. It's not looking at him, Eliot realizes with a chill. He can't move. It's looking at something behind him.