Log: Walter and Madison Summary: This happened like, a month ago. Walter meets Madison at a nice, well lit, public place and brings him back to Santa Monica. Madison has a schweeeeet ride.
MADISON: If one didn't know better, one would guess that Madison was overcompensating for something.
The car is a beautiful 1977 Chevy Camaro, a rich British Racing Green and a long way from it's days as a 'work in progress'. Last Walter saw it in person, it was still on jacks and being worked over in the most serious fashion by Madison back in Vancouver. The car was rusty and the windows were tinted, all in all giving an impression of something long buried, rather like Madison himself at the time. But now, gleaming in the California sun, the time, travel and repairs have done both car and driver some good. Packed to the gills, the bassy thrum of the engine ends at his intended location.
Walter had to call him first; Madison had sent a postcard from Gilroy, CA (Garlic Capitol of the World!), talking about making good time, the quality of garlic and how nervous the LA freeway system was making him. Scribbling the directions on a spare pad of paper, Madison sounded a little distracted on the phone, but then again... that was normal.
WALTER: Walter tends to stay near public places either filled with books or places that sell food. He figured a good meet up with Madison would be at a place with both. A large, brightly lit, easy to find Borders. Like a beacon of hope, overpriced comic books (don't call them "graphic novels," please) doubled with overpriced coffee-- it gave him something to do while he waited. Which he had to do quite a bit of. Walter had to take the bus and he feared being late, so he showed up a few hours early.
No one wants to be late, some people are just careless. Walter is definitely not that. Especially not concerning Madison. He'll probably introduce him to the Beaubiers as "the guy who saved my life!" Though the facts are that Mr. Jeffries was the one who found Walter, Madison was a friend to Walter during that scary time.
While Walter waits, he drinks some water (it's free!) and reads a little comic about a turtle who has to leave home.
MADISON: He locks the car twice and heads in from the parking lot. There's something comforting in commercialism, the same way that McDonalds lettuce is the same color across the globe. Breathing in the recycled air is comforting as Madison navigated through the new releases, the heap of manga next to the comic collections, past the DVDs to see a familiar orange head of hair. He doesn't say anything, just waves like he had and ambles over. "'ey, Walter!," he says at a reasonable volume once close enough to be heard.
WALTER: A smile quickly spreads over Walter's face, his book is dropped onto the table. It's such a nice feeling. To wait for something and have all that patience pay off. "Madison!" Slightly louder than Madison's reasonable volume. "Hello!" Despite his normal shyness, he's quick to reach out to grab the other boy in a bearhug. Or maybe he's trying to mug him, it's not clear at first.
MADISON: He's easily grabbed and probably could be easily mugged to boot. Madison is happily squeezed; his back's rather grateful for the crush after all that driving. "Hey!," he says in reply before the backslapping starts. "Oh, didn't keep ya long did I? It's like pullin' through a pretzel out there!"
WALTER: A few pats on the back and Walter's at arm's length again. "It's no problem. Don't even worry about it. It's nice to see you again!" He straightens up his borrowed area, picking up the water cup and book, tucking in his chair. "Are you hungry?" Always worried about the contents of other's stomachs.
MADISON: "Me, oh no. Made a stop in a town called Santa Barbara on my way and even the gas stations around here are fancy-pants!" He filled up his tank and got a focaccia sandwich and a ice latte. You know, for the full effect. "You? Ma wanted to send down a pie but then I told her how long it was going to take to get down here." He looks around the Borders, mostly looking out the windows. "California, Walter, I am impressed."
WALTER: "Why did you deny the pie? How's your dad?" Walter's just tickled to see Madison, he's trying to think of all that stuff he was going to say to him. "Santa Barbara," A squint, trying to remember if he's been there before. "Well, we're headed to Santa Monica. I think there's at least three songs about it."
MADISON: "He's great," Madison says of his dad, "moved him up to foreman, eh? Think I wrote you on that one..." Walter will still be getting letters despite Madison's recent arrival. Putting his hands squarely in his pockets, he looks around as if there might be someone listening. Madison is still a little wary of the real reason he came here. "Do ya got a ride?"
WALTER: "Just checking!" Walter shrugs, pushes up his glasses. "Things can change pretty quickly." That doesn't sound ominous, just like a nervous cover-up. "Nooo, I've been savin' up, but I don't have a car. I took a bus." A series of buses! "How'd you get here?" Did he borrow his dad's car?
MADISON: That does sound like a nervous cover-up. Madison is even about to say something when the subject change has him breaking out into a grin. "Oh, what 'till you see it," he says with the better sort of ominous-ness. Out in the parking lot and there she is, gleaming in the sun.
WALTER: Walter is so easy for this kind of thing. All goofy and excited, "What? See what? C'mon, Madison, how'd you get here?" Ohboyohboyohboy. Like an excited old dog.
MADISON: That's right! Water hadn't seen her since the paint job! Now, Madison could have moved the car a little, pushed the other cars out of the way, maybe even raised his precious Camaro off the ground, all to catch the eye. And for a moment, Madison thinks about it, a little terrified that he'd remotely consider something like that. Instead, he just takes out a small key fob.
*honk* says the muscle car, easing the sudden nervousness.
WALTER: "Oh wow, Madison." Holy-- how-- "This is amazing!" Walter crosses over to the car and gingerly places a hand on the hood. "This is slick, buddy." This must mean they're not taking the bus home.
MADISON: Madison grins. "Got me all the way to California with only a couple rough spots!" The hood's finish is like silk. Hands in his pockets, Madison just sort of rocks from heels to toes with pride, though whether that's for the car or his buddy's reaction to it is up for debate. "Go ahead," he shoos, "take a look inside!" Quite a plush interior with Madison's moving boxes taking up the back.
WALTER: Walter bends at the waist to look in the window. "This is just teasing, let's just go for a ride already!" Shucks, Madison, make a guy wait, will you?
MADISON: The door unlock and Madison jogs over to the driver's side. "Where're we headed?"
WALTER: "Either back to the hotel in Santa Monica-- oh man you'll love it-- or that In-N-Out I saw by the highway..." Walter ducks down to climb into the passenger seat. He's suddenly afraid of getting fingerprints on this thing. Not because of some strange criminal past, but because it's so pristine.
MADISON: Almost like it repels fingerprints or something. Madison makes a little bit of a wary face at how much he'll love the new place, saying with fake gusto, "In-N-Out it is! Think I saw that sign, too- a burger place, right?" The car starts up and they're on their way...
WALTER: They reach the burger place, food is bought, (Walter insists on paying) and the story is told. Walter tells Madison everything he can about the hotel. Some of it even in hushed tones, the parts about the other mutants. Sure, this could get him in a lot of trouble with the management, but not only is Madison a trusted friend, but one of them.
"So... do you have any questions before we embark on our journey?" To the Promised Land!
MADISON: Tons. Oodles. A near-plethora of questions are all shoved at the front of Madison's head so fast he should have tipped over from the weight of his paranoia. His shoulders pull up a bit as the discussion came to the big M Word, eyes furtively looking around at the two or three people in here like they were discussing nuclear weapons. In a way, they were; Madison knew firsthand how destructive this all was in the wrong hands.
But here's Walter and... he's fine. He's even happy here at this hotel place and maybe, this is a chance he didn't even know he needed. If a guy like Walter was safe here, then it had to be okay. Right?
"Oh, gee..." Madison runs a hand through his hair and has one last fry.
WALTER: "We can talk about it on the way there!" Because Walter is sure that Madison is going with him. Who, in his situation, would pass up such a thing? "Don't even worry about a thing." Free rent, new people, seagulls! SEAGULLS, MAN!