Perhaps more dramatically than intended, the young man whipped around to face his previously undetected cellmate. This was most likely due to his senses being shut down for so long, he figured. To her, this appeared almost comical, as the man's poker face was completely unfitting to this gesture. 

He lost no time in examining her with his eyes, from head to toe, looking for abnormalities but also, almost unconsciously, for wounds. Her tone of voice concerned him slightly, especially when he thought about the kind of treatment he received from what he could remember of the trip to the facility. But something was nagging at his ears, and before he offered to look her over, it finally registered - the voice on the loudspeaker was familiar. Very familiar.

He turned back to the bars in strangely slow motion, his eyes bulging with surprise, his face flush with color, his muscular arms gripping the bars with such a force they gave out a quiet creak - or were his bones creaking? When the voice was gone he was stuck in this position for a moment longer, until a guard made a motion of coming closer. He let go, gradually, and pushed himself away. To Eris, he seemed like a lanky lab monkey again - perhaps his build was just an illusion of light and shadow?

The young man exhaled slowly, loudly, pushing all air out of his lungs. The flush disappeared from his face, and his slightly stooped posture made him look like a manequin in the dim light. He turned towards her again, like a zombie not in full control of his body, and took a step - but by the time he reached her his posture was upright again.

[color=aqua]"I'm Chris,"[/color] he said in the same inflection-less voice. [color=aqua]"Are you well."[/color]