At the rate Kavinsky was going, this pitcher was going to become one of his new best friends. He took it with him up the stairs and down the hall, and only put it down so he could push the nightstand in front of the door. It was a good idea, though he wasn't entirely sure it would stop ghosts. They didn't seem to be overly concerned with following the laws of physics or whatever.

"Should be safe in here," he said, leaving the pitcher on the nightstand for now as he surveyed the room.

"Yeah, it's like- either the people here are way less prone to looting or they're just really scared of the ghosts. I'm sure there's shit in here that would sell for a lot. Or like, just look good on the mantle or whatever."