A Walk in the Park

I'm some kind of special...No just some religious or spiritual anomaly Ezekiel walked through the courtyards, pulling a cigarette from his pack he had hidden, sliding the pack into his pocket. From the opposite pocket, he pulled a zippo lighter with a atomic symbol on it, opening and triggering the flame. As the flame seeped into the dry tobacco, he felt the smoke travel through the filter into his mouth and through his lungs, slightly burning them. After he hit his cigarette, he released the smoke soon after. What is the point of being here? Unless I have some library to access, I wouldn't even want to be here. As he continued to take hits of his cigarette, he wondered when some stuck up student would say something. He had to wait a week before he could leave the mess called the Initiate Dorms. His parents hoped for him being placed in the Winter dormatory. "This all is science. Just extra quantities of the brain's power being accessed. I'd be damned if I allowed someone to make me think it was because of some God or Allah."

Sigh this was a dreadful day to be moving. It had rained all morning back at his home in Maine and the road trip with his hateful cat had not been pleasant. His mother, Andrea, was not very happy when Beowulf scratched a hole in her brand new jeans or when Alastair had attempted to buy a pack of cigarettes at the gas station right in front of her. 
"You don't plan on actually smoking those in my car do you?" As if Alastair would dream of smoking in his mothers brand new Jeep. I mean, it's not like the smell would cling to the leather seats. 
"No, Andrea, they're for later when I don't have to listen to you moan about the stench." He laughed a little to himself and paid for the pack. And right about now as he was drifting through the courtyard he was feeling like a good smoke would calm the nerves that had been pushing at the back of his mind all day. He pulled out his pack and reached in his back pocket for a lighter. Well shit, most of forgot it in the dorm. It would be such a pain to walk all the way back there, and as soon as he'd turn to start he saw the familiar light of a burning cig. 
"Hey, hey you!" He called, walking swiftly to the unfamiliar person. 
"Hey, mind if I borrow your lighter?" He jiggled his box of American Spirits, as if to let the guy know he wasn't asking for a cigarette too. Just a lighter, and maybe someone to talk to in this awful place his parents had forced him in.

Ezekiel, taking only a few hits of his cigarette had already been interrupted. Peace impaled by the blade of humanity. As he noticed the person approaching, he took one hard hit of his menthol-cigarette. Bad for the lungs and stamina, but he cared not. Once the boy was a few feet away from him, he came up with a few possibilities. One, he'd either be asked an unintelligent question, two he'd be forced into mindless conversation or three, he'd complain about his smoking. No, surprisingly this kid wanted a light. If it would silence him, he'd do it. Revealing his zippo, he tossed, no words spoken. Ezekiel was dressed in black dress pants, a leather belt and a white, stripped dress shirt. A loose tie combo'd with it to portray a casual-non-casual paradox for his outfit.

Alastair caught the lighter and nodded his thanks with a blank face. He opened his pack, chose one that wasn't his lucky, and lit, inhaling deeply and letting the nicotine make his hands shake and not the nerves. This boy didn't seem very friendly. But then again Alastair wasn't the nicest person. Maybe a little more sociable than most, but this guys laid back yet refined get up didn't taste very sour to A. 
"So, hey thanks. You new here too or...?" Alastair let his question hang in the air. He hoped that guy didn't get all uppity and bitchy about him. His own clothing was a pair of khaki shorts, a little on the form fitting side, and a tank top with some bands name scrawled across it. He flicked his floppy brown hair out of his eyes, revealing just a tiny bit of his tattoo, and took a long hit from his cigarette, kicking at the grass with his gray vans.

Ezekiel took a moment, looked at the boy, and paused, the hot box of his cigarette slowly growing. He scanned the fellow smoker and flicked his cigarette away into the grass, not caring about where it landed. He took moments before finally opening his mouth, and what came next would be the real shocker. "You smoke. You smoke because of a few options in this storyline. One, you fixate yourself on one facade enough to make it dig its roots into the core, a facade that gives off the bad-ass appeal and 'no one understands me' concept. You are mentally distraught and believe it is the only way, thus creating this scenario subconsciously. Two, you do so to fit in, eventually making people easily deceived believe you aren't some uptight snob or some loner 'emo'. Three, you have some sort of personality disorder related to the past, causing you to be mentally scarred and you use the narcotic nicotine to ease the pain, hopefully creating mental blocks and repressing memories. A branch from three is that you do so no to repress memories but you do so to repress emotions. Emotions such as anger, sadness, anything negative. This leads me to believe it is possible you could be bipolar, or "manic-depressive". Or this could be a simple insecurity causing you to smoke. That is why you smoke. Zippo, please." Ezekiel spoke fast, not allowing much room for response as his analytic side override his self-control. He paused, hardly missing air after his random speech and waiting for response.

Alastair starred a little at the boy in front of him, a little ruffled I guess you could say. He processed the information, chewed on it a little bit, and after minute or so of waiting for a good reply, he took a hit of his very ashy cigarette, handed the guy the Zippo and cocked his head to the side and replied. "So why do you smoke?" Inhale, he took another hit, leaning his head back and blowing away the poison into the humid summer air.

Ezekiel grabbed his zippo and lifted it, peeling back the cap with his thumb and then lighting it. "Science." he put it as simple as he could, for one word can easily replace many. "Science fuels me, but as you can see, my brain works too fast. I noticed one possibility of you not being able to reply due to utter awe of my speech, and that would lead to the fact it may or may not hold truth, and you're questioning it. Or, another strong one would be a simple 'what the hell is he talking about?' reaction. With every action there is an equal or opposite reaction. That definitely was opposite. I need to slow down with nicotine, and as you probably guessed Science can bring stress. Relief of an emotion not PD-related. " Ezekiel is quiet when not bothered, but he is a constant variable. Once it goes, it keeps going. He wondered if the boy really cared about what he was saying, but something else distracted him. The zippo, it stuck to his hand. He tried putting it away but he just couldn't seem to shake it. Eventually it released but it was strange, was metal attracted to him?

Alastair smiled a bit and took another long hit of his cigarette before throwing it at his feet and stomping it out. He shrugged. 
"Maybe that's the difference between you and me. I don't care to look to much into myself more at other people. I was never really thinking about what you words meant to me to be perfectly honest." He leaned back against a tree truck, plucking his tank top off his chest and letting it back down again. Alastair was now science whizz. He was perfectly above average, but not smart enough to be all science whizzy. He didn't care to learn anything that wasn't required of him but apparently this boy was. 
His watched him, as he played with his lighter. But for a moment, something was different about it. Almost as if the guy had glued the lighter to his hand. Alastair raised one light brown eyebrow. 
"Your powers must have something to do with magnetism. Mine aren't as cool as that." He laughed, popping his knuckles. 
"My name's Alastair by the way. Alastair Anderson." He put out a hand, hoping the guy wouldn't leave him hanging.

Ezekiel looked into the sky, retrieving a cigarette from his pack inside his pocket, closing the pack and lifting it to his lips. He pulled out his zippo lighter and lit his cigarette, returning the light. "You always have to think. Think, think, think. About everything, every possibility. Otherwise, you'll end up left behind by the greatest of minds." Ezekiel sat down on the ground, savoring the cigarette and seldom taking hits. He wondered how his time would be at this school, what would it be like? "Ezekiel. Ezekiel Isiah. My 'powers' is simply just my brain power increasing. That's all it is. The brain being able to send more drastic impulses. Don't make it sound spiritual." Ezekiel was objective against such terms, they reminded him of the spiritual or religious take on what their abilities are.

Alastair nodded keeping his own pack in his pocket. He usually didn't feel too good if he smoked more than once in a few minutes.
"That's understandable. I don't know, I personally don't care to 'keep up' with anyone. I don't need to prove myself and you shouldn't feel that way either." He said, lifting his gold eyes from the burning end of the cigarettes to Ezekiel's face. He seemed very stern. Alastair smiled to himself.
"I'm a shape-shifter." He said quickly.

Ezekiel looked at Feather, showing a lack of care for what he can do. "Atomic Magnetism. That's what I call it. It starts with metals, but seems to be able to grow to so much more."  He really didn't care Alastair could shape-shift, for he didn't seem like anyone he had to worry about for the future. "I don't need to prove anything, I just need to stay on top." Ezekiel wanted to be the cream of the crop, he wanted to come out on top and hopefully become a famous scientist. He wanted to master the control over his ability and wanted to everyone's superior. 

Alastair snorted, could this guy get anymore uptight? Being the best had never been A's goal, he was more of the "take care of the necessities" kind of guy. Maybe it was something to do with his animal instincts or maybe it was just his personality. Either way, he didn't seem to care.
"So you're telling me you're like a giant magnent?" Alastair just wanted to get under the guys skin. He was almost a rude person.

Ezekiel looked at Alastair making such the typical response. He illustrates his extrinsically reinforced goal and he gets seen as some kid who thinks he is superior. No, he wants to be superior, but wants to only because that's what's been drilled into his head. "No, so much more. This can potentially, in the future to be so much more than a magnet. Controlling my electromagnetic field, controlling other electromagnetic fields. I could potentially fire lightning maybe. You must not understand science. Probably just another ignorant kid who could turn into a mouse. If there is any ignorance, you brought it upon yourself." He took one long hit before flicking the cigarette almost in the kids direction. It would fly past the kid's shoulder and he'd begin walking away. "It's like becoming a lawyer. You want to, but really, it's your parents that want you to. Think about that. You'll understand what I mean some day."  Ezekiel needed to make his way to his room so he could get situated. Even though he was going to move out in a week anyways.

Alastair's hair bristled like a displeased cat's would.
"A mouse? Seriously that's the best insult you could come up with. Just because I can shift into an animal doesn't mean I have the mentality. I understand your 'magnetic' powers. But as of right now all you can do is attract metal. You don't have to be such a dick about it either." He retorted, smoothing out his tank top with a careful hand. He'd be damned if he let some stick-up-the-ass kid call him a mouse.