[Theo looks around at the room, expression still flat. This has all been a lot to absorb. He was still processing everything that happened to him leading up to arriving here, and said brain of his was definitely not in peak condition right now. He looks up at Travis, blinking for a moment. Processing, please wait.]

Yes. No. I don't know. I was dead then I was here. Does that count as sleep?

[He reaches for a coat pocket that doesn't exist, a reflexive move to take out the pack of cigarettes he usually keeps in his suit. But he's dressed in the bland clothing provided to him, which probably looks a size too big on him. He grumbles.]

Please tell me you've got cigarettes here. I could use a whole fucking carton of them right about now.