He certainly didn't want to be taken for someone abusive, but there were dangers for ghouls that were out of his control, and letting them run about, causing havoc whichever way they scramble would get him into trouble with the masquerade as well. Maybe it struck such a chord in him due to his own upbringing, and his sire's cruel, monstrous hands. The fact his were so gentle had become a point of pride, but even then MacClery wasn't without pity for the weak. It was a system, they all lived by invisible ranks which were extremely difficult to break free from, if at all possible.<br/><br/>After they parted a final time, he stilled his bleeding tongue, looking particularly irritated. It wasn't the ghoul's fault though, he was ignorant. Even if he tried to tell the man about how hard it was to reach that same rush, he would never understand without that same experience. "You're mistaken." MacClery quickly retorted, "I'll never be able to relive my life, every ounce of passion I've shown you is a mockery, a staged play... Ah, I should move on then, there are rules you should follow like I said, they're far more important than my own. You could consider these law." He stood up, smoothed out his robe and took the razor back into the bathroom to set it neatly in a drawer. After, he opened his case that sat on the vanity, as if looking for something.<br/><br/>"Most of these don't apply to you but.. Well, for one, you can't speak of any of this, of us. Not that I figured you would anyway, for reasons of your own. You are my responsibility, and I'm in poor standing with the Camarilla as is, I will not have you parading around spreading rumor." Pulling out a familiar file, he paused before picking back up again, "Oh, and the Camarilla... Our society, I suppose you could call it, our culture. We have our roots in Europe." Now was not the time to fret over rationalizing the Sabbat, let alone mentioning their name. Especially for one with a history like MacClery's, they were a terribly sensitive topic, their beliefs as well.<br/><br/>"Here." Standing at the bed, he looked back through his papers, this time adding one of his own to those Wilde had already read through. "The job we had, the address for delivery is not my own, but surely you're familiar with shady alleys, aren't you?" Carefully dropping the file beside the man's body where he sat, MacClery thought to himself a bit, smiling half-humored. "Hmm.. Instead of cash, at least for you, I don't mind accommodating the extra hands that help you along the way since they are not within our personal arrangement... What sates you? These meals, for one. And what was that? A bit of comfort? Company? Unless you were lying that entire time for the sake of good business, you seem a fan of it... And that's not asking if you'd even have some macabre interest in squeezing up next to a corpse like me, a body like mine."