''Likewise,'' Jason replies in response as he takes Jax's hand in a firm grasp, giving it one shake before releasing it. He hoped he had done that right, at least, as he was beginning to realize he wasn't the best with social interaction. "My number?" Jason repeats, seeming to forget what it was for a second. There's a moment of slightly awkward silence before it pops back into his head. "Ah, right, of course. It's 482-104, but I'd prefer it if you just called me Jason, or Jase. Being called by a number makes me feel..." He bites his lower lip, trying to remember the word. He never did have a large vocabulary, as he was quite forgetful, usually losing the word in space the day after he learned it. Nonetheless, fate must have been on his side, as the word pieces itself together for him. "Like an inmate. You know, like I'm in prison or something," He finishes, hoping he hadn't embarrassed himself too bad in the few seconds it took to conjure up the word. I wonder why we even have numbers. This certainly doesn't feel like a prison, but what's up with that? He thinks to himself. Just another thing to look into in this strange place.
Jason laughs slightly at the Boy's next words. "Yes, it sure is quite the eye catcher. I wonder if they designed it that way, so people wouldn't feel claustrophobic..." He trails off as his eyes wander around the room once more. "There sure is quite the plethora of things to do here," He says, somewhat absentmindedly as he searches yet again for something he liked to do. He wondered vaguely if they had baseball here. He absolutely loved the grooves of the bat in his hand, and the crack it made when it collided with the ball.