Klaus is no stranger to waking up in strange places, or even in strange clothes, with no memory of how he got there. That is the least concerning part of this whole moment for him, honestly. His eyes are wide as he takes in his new surroundings-- what looks like a giant dinner table set for only two, and hey! He has a party guest here with him. That's probably good. Not being alone when he wakes up in weird places usually does him some good. "Uhhh...yeah!" he nods, after a quick assessment of himself for injuries. "Yeah, I'm fine." A beat passes and he frowns, "I think?" He's kind of a bad judge of these things sometimes, really.
He finally looks up and sees the gorgeous dress his dinner party partner is decked out in and his eyes light up. His jaw drops as she flings a heel across the room. "Ohmygod, don't break them!" He scrambles to his feet and runs over to grab the shoe, inspecting it to see if she did, in fact, break the heel on it.
He's in the middle of his inspection when the recording starts and his eyes widen owlishly. "We're trapped in Hotel California?!" That... sounds about right for his life, actually. "Did I die again?" he asks no one in particular.
"Whoa, whatcha got goin' on there, glowy lady?" He points with the shoe in his hand at the bright shiny fist clenched at her side.
He jumps a little at the sudden, sharp rhetorical question and he realizes what she's shouting about. There's a... screen embedded into his arm! "Wha-aaaat the fuck? What is this- why- what-" A vague, non-committal noise of half-panic, half-confusion bubbles up from the back of his throat.
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He finally looks up and sees the gorgeous dress his dinner party partner is decked out in and his eyes light up. His jaw drops as she flings a heel across the room. "Ohmygod, don't break them!" He scrambles to his feet and runs over to grab the shoe, inspecting it to see if she did, in fact, break the heel on it.
He's in the middle of his inspection when the recording starts and his eyes widen owlishly. "We're trapped in Hotel California?!" That... sounds about right for his life, actually. "Did I die again?" he asks no one in particular.
"Whoa, whatcha got goin' on there, glowy lady?" He points with the shoe in his hand at the bright shiny fist clenched at her side.
He jumps a little at the sudden, sharp rhetorical question and he realizes what she's shouting about. There's a... screen embedded into his arm! "Wha-aaaat the fuck? What is this- why- what-" A vague, non-committal noise of half-panic, half-confusion bubbles up from the back of his throat.