From the darkness of the alleyway, Ig leant against the side of the brick building next to him, still staring out at the hospital entranceway. He was angled in a way that he only just stayed within the shadows – the lights from the street lamps only just cut off. The more his mind lost track of itself waiting, the more he could feel George’s own sense of self surfacing – memories of a cheap apartment with an asshole of a roommate, poor relations with his family members, deep seated confidence issues masked with naught but a cocky smile and boisterous attitude…

He shoved those thoughts back down, sighing at how he wasn’t allowed to just stop thinking for a single moment. Possession was far too annoying, and the wafts of memories he caught from George were too distracting. Too many “too”s.

It was just then he noticed that everything was far too active. There were other presences outside his line of sight. Quite frankly, he didn’t want to deal with an angel tonight. Or any night for that matter, but he supposed things wouldn’t always go his way.

The woman finished her business in the hospital far swifter than he thought she would – but she came out with someone else. She only stayed inside for a couple minutes really, making this whole thing a lot simpler than waiting outside in a dark alley for several hours. He understood that the tattoos she was covered in were runes and wards – for basic protection from both demons and angels. Very smart of her. Discounting any potential danger from angels and merely focusing on protection from demons… well, that would be only for those poor souls under the damaging misconception that angels are righteous beings alive for their benefit and protection. The man on the other hand, Ig could feel latent potential there as well, but he was secondary right now.

He had found a prime target, but it wasn’t the time yet. They were having a conversation, and it would be terribly rude to interrupt. He vaguely thought that eavesdropping was hardly the pinnacle politeness, but he pushed that through aside. So he stayed still, and tried to listen in to their conversation – he wasn’t able to make out absolutely everything, but the fact that it was night-time helped the sound travel, so he got the general gist of it. The male was being keyed in on the whole ‘war’, and, of course, the oh so precious ‘balance’. As for inherent constructs in the universe, the ‘balance’ was something Ig referred to with as much scorn as he could muster – which wasn’t really much.

But otherwise, everything was perfect. His goals were not necessarily contrasted to the Warded Woman – just… differing intent. If communications with her failed then he would have to attempt it with the man he assumed to be a doctor. He stayed silent and still, not even flinching when the woman yelled out that she didn’t like being spied upon. Fair enough. He didn’t either. It was just necessary.

When the male was done taking the news surprisingly well and went back to work, Ignavas stepped out from the alleyway. He made no effort to hide himself, moving directly under the street lamp light. If there was trouble with angels or, for whatever reason, Fallen, then he would have to rely on the assumption that they wouldn’t outright attack him whilst inside a human being. That was not a sure-fire assumption to make.

“Hello,” he said as soon as she was within vocal range, his voice calm and soothing, but loud enough to be heard clearly and distinctly. There was nothing particularly threatening about his appearance, nothing to indicate that he was about to charge at any second. “I do apologize for the cloak and dagger, but I have a proposition that I believe matches up with your goals,” he politely said, already knowing she didn’t need to be told he was a demon. He was more and more wary of the onlookers that he knew were there somewhere, but none of that showed on his face. “My name is Ignavas, and I would request we speak somewhere with… less spectators, as I’ve sure you’ve noticed,” he eyed in the rough direction of the presences. “… Or perhaps somewhere with more spectators, so our conversation can be drowned out.” Such as a fast food joint or a busy bar.