Ghoul's easily entertained by watching the letters appear out of thin air, quiet the entire time, even if the moment doesn't last all that long. It's as effective as sticking a tablet playing a movie in to a toddler's hands. Instant shut-up button.

He takes the paper from her gingerly once its offered up, swiping the pad of his thumb over the writing a time or two before actually bothering to read what's there. He's got a little time to absorb it before the train comes to a full stop, and she's right. It's not as bad as he thought. "I can handle this," he assures with a grin. "Thanks, I owe you one. Unless this is, like, disappearing ink. Then you're awful."