To hunt, ah, the bittersweet feeling of knowing he was right. He won't stroke it like a dog, no worries there. This internal-external organ of Ken's doesn't look anything like a dog, for one, and it's also part of him, for another. Treating it like he might treat a dog could be taken as nothing short of disrespect, and far it be from Will to partake in rudeness here and now. He slowly reaches out, first touching the kagune with a few fingertips, then takes the plunge and rests his full hand on top. Will's had plenty of experience with organs being where they shouldn't, was well-acquainted with a body being all out of sorts. But unlike the times he'd killed, mutilated, refrigerated, and devoured the remnants of Randall Tier, this was very much alive. Alive and not moments from death should help never arrive in time—Will taking Ken's coffee without hesitation or concern had been an extension of trust, was this Ken's way to return that? If the kagune doesn't make an offensive move, Will won't show any sign of fear or disgust. Hell, he's reminded of a snake so much he wouldn't be shocked if it curled a bit more his way. A python constricting around an arm didn't necessarily have to mean it was considering unhinging its jaw and how delicious the human nearby must have tasted, after all.
This must be a pretty big one, he thinks, but rejects saying outright. Will is a human from an arguably odd world, nothing else. He has no frame of reference for this. Acting otherwise does neither of them a favor.
"So other ghouls can tell what you favor just by seeing yours?"
What must that be like, hmm. Someone who devours humans, who must think themselves superior for it, finally coming up against another and knowing as soon as the back-organ comes rushing out that they aren't really that superior at all? Go down fighting, go down crying, go down in a reckless mad rush out of disbelief or disgust, reveal that they, too, prefer eating ghouls? If Will thinks about this as one serial killer meeting another...disturbing, yes, but easier for him to conceptualize. Par for the course with his imagination, working rapidly, his voice curious in the same way he'd be curious about the breeds present in someone's mutt instead of anything too heavy. They both know this is grave, considered terrible and unholy by a vast majority, they don't have to constantly whisper or keep their voices just shy of breaking.
"Do they have a name for you?"
Humans are so fond of giving their unknown serial killers names, and Will operates from a human standpoint. It's made this place more interesting, more horrifying, and somewhat sadder for it, but it's helped him rationalize the truly fantastic. He might be speaking with the Ghoul Consumer or the Betrayer or the Power Hungry or something else meant to be both slight and awe, to cause dread and panic and interest, but Will's not showing any of that. His interest is not the most unhealthy it could be, and when he pulls away his hand from that organ, there's gratitude.
Perhaps Ken has gotten that from a human before, if he spared any who might have stumbled across ghoul politics. Except instead of running away to clean his pants, shower, and cry at the horror of the universe, Will picks his mug back up to pour another half-serving of coffee as though this is really just The Most Normal Conversation instead of something completely without its marbles.
no subject
This must be a pretty big one, he thinks, but rejects saying outright. Will is a human from an arguably odd world, nothing else. He has no frame of reference for this. Acting otherwise does neither of them a favor.
"So other ghouls can tell what you favor just by seeing yours?"
What must that be like, hmm. Someone who devours humans, who must think themselves superior for it, finally coming up against another and knowing as soon as the back-organ comes rushing out that they aren't really that superior at all? Go down fighting, go down crying, go down in a reckless mad rush out of disbelief or disgust, reveal that they, too, prefer eating ghouls? If Will thinks about this as one serial killer meeting another...disturbing, yes, but easier for him to conceptualize. Par for the course with his imagination, working rapidly, his voice curious in the same way he'd be curious about the breeds present in someone's mutt instead of anything too heavy. They both know this is grave, considered terrible and unholy by a vast majority, they don't have to constantly whisper or keep their voices just shy of breaking.
"Do they have a name for you?"
Humans are so fond of giving their unknown serial killers names, and Will operates from a human standpoint. It's made this place more interesting, more horrifying, and somewhat sadder for it, but it's helped him rationalize the truly fantastic. He might be speaking with the Ghoul Consumer or the Betrayer or the Power Hungry or something else meant to be both slight and awe, to cause dread and panic and interest, but Will's not showing any of that. His interest is not the most unhealthy it could be, and when he pulls away his hand from that organ, there's gratitude.
Perhaps Ken has gotten that from a human before, if he spared any who might have stumbled across ghoul politics. Except instead of running away to clean his pants, shower, and cry at the horror of the universe, Will picks his mug back up to pour another half-serving of coffee as though this is really just The Most Normal Conversation instead of something completely without its marbles.