A Warning
He walks into Chicago General Hospital in a sharp gray suit custom-tailored to his six-foot-four inch frame, looking as though he'd stepped straight off the pages of GQ Magazine and into real life. Both male and female heads turn as he walks in off the street, making his way straight to Nurses' Station. He flashes a pristine smile at the nurse on duty, who happens to be sipping a cup of coffee when he arrives.

Her coffee ends up all over her and her keyboard, and she leaps out of her chair, though she doesn't immediatley bother to clean herself, or her workstation, up.

"M-may I help you, sir?" the nurse asks haltingly.

"Yes, you can." he says, his voice a mixture of smoke, silk and honey. Again, he flashes that pristine smile. "I'm hoping to see Doctor Shelly Drumm. Is she in today?" 

"Um, I think she'll be back in her office shortly." the nurse says.

"I know where it is." he says. "I'll wait."

With that, he walks away from the Nurses' Station and heads toward the elevator, pretending not to notice when one of the candy-stripers runs her cart of meds headlong into a pillar because she's so distracted.

Soon enough, Anvarael waits inside Shelly's office, looking around at her various personal items. Plaques, pictures and certificates adorn the walls and he finds himself once again enthralled with humanity. They are such beautiful creatures, even if they /are/ trying their level best to kill themselves in this century.

It's always hardest to save those who will not save themselves.