Scott has woken up in a lot of weird places in his lifetime. It's a bit like a bad habit if he's honest one that he continuously tries to fix but apparently, like so many times before, is unsuccessful. At least this time no one undressed him in his sleep, that's a nice change.

He groans as he looks around the room trying to gauge his surroundings and get his bearings. He's feeling a little sick like he's been knocked around a little and there's a part of him that is dimly aware that he seems to be moving while staying stationary. He's unsure if its general motion sickness or maybe something else right at this moment.

The room he's woken up in is mostly boring, and kinda looks like your average ol' hotel room maybe? Nothing notable stands out aside from some really bad generic art adorning the walls and a small slip of paper at the bedside which he gives a once over. "Vacation? What the fuck does that mean?!" He says to no one in particular. He hadn't been planning any vacation certainly and if he did it certainly wouldn't be on a god damn cruise ship.

But apparently this is what he's doing today. No matter, Lang's good at rolling with the punches. His life basically dictates it.

He's not entirely one to go against the rules in a strange area, apparently out to sea, besides whats a better way to find out more about a place then to just charge head first into whatever chaos is looming on the poop deck. That's a sailing term right?
So he grabs the mentioned life jacket, but leaves it off for now, and heads to what he would assume would be the upper decks so that he can at least confirm what the letter mentions when he gets to where he's going he's greeted with someone putting a lei around his head and it's probably the weirdest one that he's ever seen. Not that he has a shit ton of experience with leis. He grabs it and gives it a once over before laughing.

"Hey man, don't these usually come with one of those tall fruity drinks?" Cause why not make dumb jokes in high stress environments. That's the solution to everything.

He hates ships. He hates them. They're so tight and wobbly and he really needed to just get away from stuff for a moment. He's not sure where the piano normally lives but when he makes his way to one of the hallways down below decks as he looks for somewhere to get water, or something to settle his stomach, and is suddenly blocked by a big ol' baby grand he's assuming that the hallway isn't where this thing is supposed to be.

He looks around for maybe a couple of moving men, or something, that would explain why it was just sitting there but spots nothing for now.

"Hey guys? You kinda left your crap in the hallway? This has got to be some sort of safety violation or something." Who is he talking to? No one knows. When no one answers, unsurprisingly, he's walking towards the piano trying to work out a way around it but as he focuses on the thing it shivers...

Wait... What?

He's unsure of how such a large, usually inanimate, object can shiver but before he can think too much on that fact it's going beyond shivering and opening its casing wide so that Lang can see large, sharp, teeth that seem to drip and sit before a vast emptiness, rather than the stings and housing he'd expect to find in such a thing. Scott's eyes go wide and he's scrabbling to turn around as fast as he can, more or less tripping over himself as the piano, or whatever the hell this thing actually is, straight up lunges towards the other in heavy thudding movements.

"What the actual fuck is happening!?" He's just going to run, as fast as he can, not really paying attention to where he's going but knowing he's getting the fuck out of dodge as it slides and shimmies almost effortlessly in the hall behind him.

You know what that means.