Burying The Skeletons

Out in the middle of the beach, completely alone and surrounded only by darkness and the sea breeze, is a handsome man. He wears black slacks and a white dress shirt, a blue tie hanging around his neck and down his chest. He wears a black coat over this outfit, making the man blend in somewhat with the darkness around him. He stares out at the ocean, the moon hanging above, white as a marble in the air. An unlit cigarette hangs between his lips, neglected and forgotten as the man seems lost in his thoughts.

Sheltark stands out just outside the beach, his form perfectly still as trhe winds around him gather uphe wears his usual outfit. A wife beater, black jeans and work boots. His cold expressionless stare face Elijahs form, and for a while he just studys the other Caninite. Sheltark then takes a step towards Elijah and after a few minutes he reaches him, his arms behind his back as he views Elijah for sometime. "You wish to be alone brother as you question the meaninmg of Undead life?"

The handsome man seems to have been aware of Sheltark's presence the entire time, most likely due to his heightened senses. Regardless, his eyes snap into focus, though he doesn't turn his head or move. The wind gently pushes at black locks of hair that have gone unstyled, and even a faint patch of 5 o'clock shadow is visible on his chin, most likely something he was embraced with. "Heh. Brother." The man says, repeating the word with a bit of bemusement, reaching up a hand to take the dry cigarette from his lips. "Family can be cast out for such small reasons." The man doesn't elaborate on the nature of his words. Rather, he brings the cigarette up, holding it with two fingers and a thumb, keeping the cylindrical shape perfectly vertical. He raises it to his eyes, studying it with a cold, hollow smirk.

Sheltark looks towards the ocean for the time being, the ocean sounds and mell sourounding them both, he then turns to Elijah as he raises his right eyebrow in responce to the statement. "Family and sence of Family have two main emotions, Love, Hate." He shake his head as he looks back onto the waves. "When I was a Mortal, I had a brother, I hated to live with him, we argued all the time//" he then raises his finger as he looks towards Elijah. "But the Lords help any man who used violence agaist him.." His eyes scan the area for a moment. "I am not intelligent, crypotic statements make me look even dumber, this is what you wish to do, make me look dumber?"

"No." The man says, a genuine smirk replacing the fake one on his lips. "You're quite profound, actually." He continues to stare at the cigarette, as though the object is a magnetic pole pulling his eyes toward it. Then the man leans down, putting the cigarette between his lips as he kneels far enough to reach the sand. Both hands move downwards, scooping out sand from its position to make a decent-sized little hole. Elijah takes the cigarette from his lips with dirtied fingers, before setting it into the little hole. Then he reaches into his coat, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and a flask, his blue tie hanging down between his legs.

Sheltark sits down on the sand, a confused look on his face emerges but only for a light moment, his mask of no emotions take over his facial features once again. "I will take it that I am right." Sheltark looks at the waves, listening to the sounds of the beach, he waits for a moment to speak up. "And if your relationship with me does not concern, then it is your relationship with the Inquisitor

Without immediately replying, Elijah puts the flask into the hole, then the pack of cigarettes. His hand gently moves to the side, pushing the little pile of sand back into its place, covering the three objects. The same hand runs over the upturned sand, smoothing it out and leaving a perfect patch of the water-worn grains. Then he falls backwards, sitting with his legs open and knees pointed up, the grave for his addictions between them. "Mhm. Bingo." He leans back, hands digging into the sand to support his upper body, silver-green eyes looking up towards the moon for a moment of solace.

Sheltark looks up to the big moon but starts to laugh like a robot, he then stops lauighing as he eyes Elijah , he shakes his head. "You are very handsome Brother, and If my sex organ worked I would have take your body, claimed it to be mine the first night i layed eyes in you." He pauses as he looks back onto the waves, then to the patch of sand where Elijah burried the stuffs. "lucky for the Inquisitor, i do not view you like this"

"That's… an odd confession." Elijah says, though the peaceful expression doesn't quite leave his face. It looks as if he hasn't been this calm in the past few days, almost as if the moment of tranquility will only be torn down within moments. "Devon couldn't care less right now, I think. I could be raped by a pack of stray dogs and he wouldn't shed a tear." The handsome man's silver-green eyes flit towards the patch of sand, and for a moment it seems as though he'll uncover a cigarette and smoke it. He sits up and stares down at the patch, before moving his finger towards the sand.

"He would, but you know there are two sides of him.." Sheltark keeps siting down but reaches over to dig out the cigarette and flask, he holds them up for inspection. "Who knows if Devon is a she or a he, but I do know she respects strength." He places the cigarette packet at Elijahs Feet. " Females in the old world, were dominated, I for one, tought My wife her place, I loved her and she kneew, but she knew not to get in my way, when it came to relationship. " He looks up at Elijah now. " 2 people, one relationshiop.. Dominasnte.. submissive. Perhaps apeasment is over, Your a man, set the guidlines for relationship."

"I'd rather compromise." He says, taking the cigarette and flask from where Sheltark had set them, before pushing the objects back into the Earth. He covers them with fresh sand and falls back again, looking up at the stars and moon. Then the man reaches forward, finger poking into the sand. He begins to write something, write below the patch where he buried his past. "I don't think continuing on like an idiotic junkie shows strength, Templar, as much as I respect your opinion." His finger continues to dig, making a single word form: Elijah. He doesn't seem to be done, because his finger starts in on the letter D, next to the name. "No. I need to shed my skin. I need to step through my shadow, and leave behind the syringe."

Sheltark closes his eyes for a moement before picking up the packet and then stands up, he waves the packet in his face. "Your a Brother, you have the right to do what you want, unles sit places the sect in danger or go agaist the orders of our Leaders.." He takes out a cigarette and looks at it , then eyes Elijah. "The inquisitor ias my leader not yours, No rigth does he to say what for you to do, If you accept it, your like a childe of the enemy." He places the cigarette in the mans pocket. "Let us pretend I am him." He points to the cigareet packet. "Elijah, you sexy man, your a junkie, how ever did you pass your creation riters, be more sabbat!"

The handsome man smirks, listening to Sheltark without responding. His finger writes out the word 'Day' after 'Elijah'. He pauses writing the epitaph to look up and chuckle slightly at Sheltark. The humorous expression falls away, leaving the man looking empty and peaceful all at once. "No… You have to understand. He's more than just a brother to me. More than an inquisitor." Elijah looks down at the inscription in the sand, finger moving down one more time to finish it. Once he's done, it reads 'Elijah Day', and beneath the name, '1984-2008'. He takes a moment of silence to peer at the grave, before standing to his feet and looking out at the ocean, careful not to ruin the words in the sand. "And he's right, anyways. I'll never move forward if I don't leave the mortal husk behind."

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