Oh yes, you're a teenage girl, just as per usual. You adjust your hair, which is in a loose, but now quite messy bun due to the fact that you'd just gotten up without taking it out.
"I'm Valerie." you say, and the other nods, though his expression still does not change. Does he ever show any emotion besides irritation or nonchalantness? "What's your name?"
"Rhys." the man responds, his eyes never leaving you as he shifts on the bed a bit. You hear muffled talking from behind the cell bars, but upon looking over your shoulder it seems the man from before was no longer standing there. Oh.
"Where are we, Rhys?" you promptly ask, and he doesn't seem exactly pleased that you just said his name so casually, (or perhaps it was your imagination as his expression just wasn't the peachiest in the first place), but he answers anyways.
"Absum." he states the name as if just saying it put a sour taste on his tongue, adding, "Or rather 'hell on earth' as they like to say."
'Hell on earth', hmmm? Sounds... er, pleasant? You weren't sure how to respond to that.
Your eyes trail from his chocolate brown ones to... his neck, for whatever reason (you're a teenage girl, he can't blame you), where you see a thick tube-like contraption of sorts, glowing black against his fairly pale skin. There seemed to be thin lettered writing on one side of it, which seemed to read '17'.
"What's that? Do I have one?" you ask, moving your fingers to your own neck, only to find that you too, have one. Well, great.
Your fingers close upon the front, trying to tug it off, and Rhys raises an eyebrow.
"Well aren't you full of questions." he states, but continues on, "You seem to have already answered the second one, but I can't tell you the answer to the first."
"Why not?" you frown, displeased.
Rhys sighs, slightly irritated by your question, but mutters, "I'd tell you if I knew the answer myself." You could've sworn you heard him mutter a quieter 'idiot' or something like that under his breath afterwards, but that could be you just pouting inwardly and wanting to have more to whine about or something of that sort.
"What number does mine say?" you ask, remembering the numbering on his, to which Rhys raised an eyebrow at. "... Sixty-eight." he responded promptly, and asked the question himself, seeming intrigued.
You responded by telling him 'seventeen', and with that, he went silent, obviously thinking hard.
Oh. It seems his self induced thinking time has given you a chance to ask him another question. Go ahead, what would you like to ask?