<span style="font-size: 15px">MacClery eagerly handed the man his pen, watching him take a final look over the research done and jotting down various queries. This job would not only lead the undead to Wilde's veins but procure an important resource he'd be able to barter with. Information was important, and the monstrous Nosferatu had their ugly jaws in every corner of the city. When the Camarilla had settled in, a large number of them were culled, unwilling to adapt to civility given their deformities. But MacClery found this recent generation of kindred most cooperative. And what better gift and a bribe than a meal? With looks like those, they were as starved as stray dogs anyhow...<br/>
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He busily jotted down an address on a spare piece of the clippings he had brought with himself. Maybe some time ago he had considered giving an alternate location for the papers to be filed to, perhaps a ghoul's, or a fellow kindred, but his own paranoia was incomprehensible in the company of kine. Standing with everything else stowed away in his bag he took one of Mr. Wilde's hands and folded their fingers over the slip with a nod of his head, turning the gesture into another handshake. "You're correct, as much as I'd love to talk the night away, I've meetings to attend before turning in for the rest of the night... Perhaps, you should save your hospitality for when we next meet? I'm sure you're a most generous host. whichever evening you choose I'll be sure to clear of events."<br/>
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The sire-to-be listened along the way, starting to walk with case in hand, keeping that warm demeanor as he did so. On the inside at least he was ready to leave, breathing was tiring, the feeling in his lungs after all this time had been rendered foreign. "The night will be ours then, Mr.Wilde. More importantly, yours. I hope this arrangement does well for you as it does us." His voice still carried an air of hunger about it, of anticipation. MacClery could only assume it registered as something more carnal in the ears of his new partner, with all of William's peculiar hobbies. He came to a stop outside, thankful to be out of the haze of the club and turning to Wilde with an inquisitive frown, "And I'm hoping the next location will be... private, like you said? Forgive me for my worries." MacClery cast his best look of sincerity. It was only natural that he'd worry, if he were your average human being with a little more than unusual lifestyle. This line of work, for those that pursued it to heart, was still vastly illegal. Such primitive medicine was often scorned in the eyes of the public, but as MacClery now saw, for the Camarilla, it had it's benefits.<br/>
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