Welcome to Gaia! ::

Generally speaking, Victor was punctual by choice, though life sometimes attempted to see him otherwise. This, however was not a normal appointment, but a case of his transmitter acting strangely, going red without warning. It was not, in fact, something he would have noticed on his own, but he had left the transmitter in the care of the woman he'd hired to act as nanny to the child, and she, upon seeing it go red, had descended on the door to his workroom in a flurry of frantic knocks.

After calming her (and considering whether such a high strung woman would really do for the child), he had known there was nothing to do but visit the compound and hope the change indicated news of some positive sort.

His driver made the trip rather more quickly than might be considered safe, but he did so with Victor's encouragement. The man was shooting him concerned glances in the rearview mirror when they parked, and it was not difficult for Victor to discern his thoughts. It seemed the majority of his staff was not so excited by the idea of the child as he was.

But he was.

He entered the building at a hurried walk, stopping just inside the door and hesitating there. He was a man accustom to having someone waiting just within the entrances of places, to take his coat and see him settled.

Jonus, meanwhile, or the boy who would be Jonus, was quick to slither out of the uncomfortable body suit and into more suitable clothes. But after that, he was less motivated, overwhelmed by the newness of form and shape and color. He sat on the floor, twitching his fingers and watching in fascination as they moved without seeming command. He had only to want them to, and they did it. He knew, with the part of himself that knew things, that this was not unusual. But it seemed such a powerful thing that he sat transfixed by it, moving each finger independently of the others, and then wiggling them all at once.

"Good Afternoon." Victor replied, looking at least mildly confused by the strangeness of the woman's speech, but well bred enough not to comment on it. He was, perhaps, a little unused to the world at large, but he at least knew to keep his opinions to himself for the most part. He could do that, at least.

"Victor Erikson. But Victor is fine, really." He responded, smiling at the man with the sort of comfortable confidence that comes from growing up surrounded by people paid to always treat you with kindness and respect. It wasn't arrogance, exactly. He didn't think he was better than anyone else. But he thought he was equal. Equal to anyone he met, regardless.

"Oh, of course. Paperwork." A sigh and a slight shake of his head there. Paperwork, there was always paperwork. "I can't tell you how excited I am about this opportunity. I can assure you the boy will get the very best of care. I have been speaking to the transmitter as instructed, of course."

At that statement, he realized that it was probably an object that needed to be returned and held it out toward the man.

Sounds! Sounds had meaning, and they tickled in his mind as he tried to string them together properly. The first thought was that the voice was wrong. It was supposed to be soft and velvet, ever patient. This voice was higher, quicker. Words. Huh?

He moved his lips silently trying out the shape of his lips and the feel of his tongue. "Mmm..." He managed, cracking an unintentional smile at how that made his lips feel. They vibrated almost, and he made the sound again, moving his lips up to feel it.

But, the person. She was not, by his estimation, dressed oddly. The racial memory he held inside him was... chaotic. There would not be much to shock him, at first.

"What?" He asked her at first, walking unsteadily toward her. He was genuinely curious. What had she found?

Victor's did little to hide his reactions to Alistair's words, his expression shifting from moderate offense at the very possibility that he might in any way be a danger to the child to a more reserved look when the other man got down to the details of the organizations expectations.

He skimmed the paperwork briefly before actually taking up the pen, the man was a scholar and a mage first, but constant exposure to the details of the business he'd inherited from his parents were enough to make him cautious of paperwork. Seeing nothing unusual, he set himself to the task, working his way through the forms with a sort of practiced efficiency. "It will be good for the child, to meet his peers. He will encounter peers here, yes?"

It was a small point, but one of a sort of quiet importance to Victor. His own childhood had been one of isolation, though perhaps not an unhappy one. It would be good for the boy to have friends. "Are there... any special issues I should be warned of? Dietary requirements, unusual traits?"

It wasn't an unfair question, on Gaia. The child might well turn into a badger when the moon was three quarters full, or eat only tulips. If that were the case, he wanted to be prepared.

Even as he spoke, he didn't raise his head from the forms, but tossed the questions out with the expectation of having them answered, eye contact or no.

"It's--- loud." He left long pauses between his words, and spoke with exaggerated care. The choice of description wasn't entirely, but saying that it was overwhelming on a sensory level was a bit beyond him. "Loud to feel, to see."

With that, he reach out to lightly pet the love seat that Noire was occupying marveling at the feeling of the fibers on his skin. Everything was so real. He liked it. Later, he'd concern himself with appropriate action and reaction, but his mind was too new to care.