highfunctin-blog

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— ofaudreyisms.

Audrey had thought she was dreaming at first, after all things like this only happened in dreams right? Then again the same could have been said about finding human eating plants as well and she was pretty sure that had happened too. As much as she wanted to be upset she had to admit that this place was a lot better then skid row, but that wasn’t hard considering almost every other place was. She had wandered outside to try and find answers, when she felt someone grab her. The blonde quickly let out a small yelp in surprise. She blinked over at him clearly confused. “ I don’t know sir, I don’t really know where I am myself. “ she confessed.   

The taller gentleman, if one could call him one, stood up and looked the woman in the eyes before letting go and ignoring the fact he was even in some sort of tizzy. He remained silent, replaying her words in his head. She clearly wasn’t lying, and she genuinely didn’t see it coming. She had to be in the clear. Apologize, Sherlock popped into his head. His mother’s voice. “Pardon... I was expecting someone else. But, you are in the same boat? You could be of some use. For some reason, you’re here and there is a reason... Sit down, I may be able to help.”

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— karinthesky.

“There’s a lake farther down in this park. There really wasn’t much else worth looking at. I’m pretty sure there are suburbs like this everywhere.” She had to say, she wasn’t really impressed. Not that that was her biggest concern of course, but Karolina figured if she was going to randomly turn up somewhere it would be somewhere interesting. Clearly she was wrong. She raised an eyebrow, a little confused about how that question was important. Maybe he thought people were getting kidnapped from a specific area. “Los Angeles.” He seemed put off, or at the very least stressed. She looked down at herself, her vibrant colors still the most obvious thing to look at in the area. “Sorry, is it bothering you. I can make it stop.” She offered, already reaching for her bracelet which would contain the colors. She didn’t like the idea of being defenseless but she was starting to wear herself out like this.

His head simply nodded, they must be near a major city. But where? He didn’t know, but he tried to picture it out in his head and within seconds he narrowed it down to a few choices if his knowledge was up to date. American maps were always a secondary thing for him, he never needed the knowledge. Though it would now be useful, it could get him away from home and from this. “Los Angeles- so you’re from here...” Britain's lucky they didn’t have this before the two countries were fairly amicable. “You can turn it off?” Sherlock’s shaking hand was once again brought to his cigarette, moving it from his lips into the air. He thought it could help make it stop. “Please do...” He needed to add a reason. Something to make him not as pitiful or a target. He didn’t know what else that could do. “You may attract some unwanted attention... We may want to walk in a direction not here, clearly, something bad is going on and there is no telling who may come for you given your... Science?”

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— imjackkelly.

Jack took a look around and noticed some buildings and the fact that there was far less wide open spaces and greenness then he had heard of. Now he was really confused and wondering if he indeed had been kidnapped. “Maryland?” He asked the man in front of him, who seemed far more knowledgeable then Jack was. He shrugged his shoulder unsure how to explain it to a stranger. “I just…. heard about it is all. And I told my friends, thought maybe somehow they got me on a train there.” The more he thought about it. The more ridiculous the idea of him being in Santa Fe was. 

Sherlock looked around once more, trying to find some other indication of where he was before tilting his head in a curious manner.“Maryland... That doesn’t sound quite right- maybe somewhere else- somewhere near the area for sure. There are not enough clues to go on.” Sherlock looked the other up and down before clasping his hands in front of his face. The other was not a threat as far as he could see, but he was a rather very disoriented man. “You clearly must be in a delusional state if you believe your friends, without warning, would have placed you on a train- which I don’t believe go that far inland- to go to a city you’ve heard of... Where are you supposed to be?”

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— apricotjvice.

There were so many questions currently weighing heavily on Sebastian’s mind and yet not a single answer he managed to find, it was oddly infuriating. He had nights where he got piss drunk but it didn’t affect him in the same way it would a human so he couldn’t exactly blame this on a blackout of some sort. This town was crawling with mundanes and there hadn’t been a single supernatural creature had managed to detect, which made him feel a bit uneasy. No matter how easily he could snap a human’s neck, he didn’t feel like drawing any unwarranted attention to himself after going through the trouble of murdering a man and stealing his identity. His thoughts remained rather clouded until he found himself suddenly grabbed by someone, his muscles growing rigid and his jaw clenching as he turned to face the other. “Working for who? You must have a mighty ego to think you’re significant enough to kidnap and dispose to a foreign country.” A small scoff fell from his lips ( talk about the pot calling the kettle black ). “As for the London bit… that makes two of us.”

Sherlock’s face calmed considerably from his moment of confusion when the male finished his reply. At least there was one person ruled out and some clue he had. Despite it being ruling out one in thousands. He looked like he could strike. He let him go. “Two of us? Then you must not read the papers very much. Or you simply don’t care to retain the information... There are plenty of people in London who would benefit from my absence, but of course you’re not one of them I take it.” He’s forgotten not everyone has heard about him or any of the countless life-threatening plans he’s stopped from the countless possible whos in question. But he didn’t mind. Well, maybe a little. Especially from a Londoner such as himself. The male paused, letting out a small sigh as he tried to process the other. One relation was already put together and maybe there were more. He changed the subject and pretended as though the previous stream of thought never occurred. “What part of London?”

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— lizziemdfrd.

She stopped, just staring at him dumbfounded for a moment, before sniffing and shaking her head. “It-it’s fine. You seem stressed.” Not that that was really an excuse. She wouldn’t just go grabbing people out of the street when she was freaked out, but she also wasn’t looking for a fight and quickly decided it was fine now that he wasn’t yelling at her anymore. At least she managed to get rid of the urge to cry. Elizabth paused, staring at his hand for a moment before ignoring it. Her mother had raised her to be polite after all. She carefully picked up her skirts before giving him a careful curtsy, “Lady Elizabeth Ethel Cordelia Midford.” Did her title even matter here? She didn’t want to consider the possibility that it didn’t. “It’s nice to make your acquaintance.” That wasn’t quite true but she had to say it anyway. You couldn’t just introduce yourself to someone and not be polite about it. “Are you also from England? You know, I’ve never been to the states before? This is quite far off from what I imagined.” It was weird, just making casual conversation despite her situation, but Lizzie had been taught that maintaining her image was important and she would do just that, even here.

A huff as if to mock the idea of stress came from his lips, but he ignored the temptation to speak of it. Stress is not something Sherlock Holmes experiences as far as he was concerned. As he waited for a shake in return, he was greeted with something a lot more civil. He hated curtsies and bows. The whole act felt pointless. He simply nodded and returned his hand to his pockets. “Likewise. Sherlock Holmes.” Somehow the conversation had shifted, and Sherlock was fine with it. Ignoring his mistakes was by far the quickest way to move forward and gauge who someone was. And a lady? Of course she was. The dress, her whole demeanor. That’s what he was trying to place. “Yes, and I take you are too... Quite old fashioned, isn’t it? The curtsy. Outdated it feels, though everyone seems to enjoy its usage.” It has been around since the beginning of kings it feels yet it gives off the same message. “It seems this place is a lot more modern than what we may be used to, but it is quite what I expected. Different customs, new age feeling...” He eyed the other, and then himself. The male hadn’t noticed his outfit yet, but he only stared for a moment to compare the two. Apparently, somebody put him in some new American apparel without him knowing. Though the cloth feels different. “Very new world... Do you know how you came to visit the states then, given you haven’t been?”

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— bumiisms.

“ Let go of me. Please, let go me!! ” He whined in the other’s firm hold. Bum wasn’t the strongest and being handled so harshly had freaked him out even more. He shook his head frantically, only wanting to be let loose and carry on his search for him.  “ I don’t know anything, I swear. I don’t even know where I am. Someone is waiting for me and I have to find him. Please just let me go. You’re scaring me!! ”

Sherlock froze and stared blankly at the other. There’s no way the man had even the slightest idea what was happening, but there was no way somebody linked wasn’t in town close by watching. A dull look, him trying to sort out the facts. Before he knew it the other began to talk again, annoying him back into reality. Sherlock didn’t let go, but he loosened his grip considerably. Speaking as calmly as he could, Sherlock tilted his head. “Who is waiting for you? Rather, a better question is who are you? Why do you need to search for him right this very moment?” Sentimental attachment? Sherlock couldn’t possibly be the only possible misplaced thing strewn about. However, there is a posibility he had been wrong and that this could be an act. But why would it be so genuine, Sherlock. Think. You’d do this for Watson. He paused, his face changed. Eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed in thought.

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— rainablum.

“Raina.. you’re name is now.. Raina?” Rapunzel shook her head, unsure of how to take this all in. She was in a new place. Full of new people. And she had no idea how she got there. After her meltdown, she somehow mustered up the courage to walk around and explore this.. new Home of hers. No. Not home, this was temporary. She was sure. She just needed to figure everything out and she would be okay. She was so lost in her thoughts, she jumped when a man grabbed on to her, asking her questions. “Sir, I’m.. very sorry, but I don’t think I can help you. I can barely help myself right about now,” she looked to him with a furrowed brow. He looked worse than she had been. “I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation, um..” she looked around, unsure of what to do. He didn’t let go of her so she sat down and joined him. “I’m Rapunzel,” she smiled but immediately wished she could take that back. Maybe she went by a new name for a reason, maybe she was in some sort of under cover protection thing. Maybe her parents were in danger. The kingdom was in danger.. Eugene.. Taking a deep breath, she calmed herself down. “And you are?”

Sherlock’s hand remained, but he stopped his stream of thought. He had processed it all wrong, no way someone would send a woman like her. She seemed kind- sweet, she reminded him of his landlady. "Rapunzel?” Where has he heard that name before? Somewhere back home- the news? No, she didn’t seem to be newsworthy.  The male looked at her face carefully and with a questioning look. He had to know that name.  The woman spoke again, she asked him a question. How to respond? Truthfully, if she had been honest as he could see, he should be somewhat. He put the memory to the side, keeping it in mind but out of his main reach, and decided to remain in the moment. Watson could be back at home and assume he was dead, villains he had put away could be out in no time flat given how well the police have done. A name didn’t matter. It didn’t. “Holmes. Sherlock Holmes... If you can’t help yourself, I would like to be of use, but there aren’t facts- nothing makes sense. You don’t even make sense- you seem strange- you don’t belong here. That’s a fact, the only one I can see right now.” He finally let go only to run a hand through his hair. Normally he’d make a quip, something about the situation, but he looked over the other once more. She was not the person to go off about anything to right now. “Apologies... So, are you alright? Hurt?”

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guess who bit off more than they could chew on one muse ? this piece of trash. so what i’m going to do is finish up the couple of starters i have in my drafts, continue answering sherlock’s open HERE, and continue on with the threads i have and have asked for. if anyone wants a closed starter from sherlock please im me to let me know. but, otherwise, i tap out... as a side note, i also already have an idea for a second muse and i need to use restraint.

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— jollyholidcy.

Bert was beginning to adjust to his new environment. He was still freaking out a bit, what with the new gadgets and fancy decor, but he figured there was no sense getting upset. After all, he was a master at making the best of a bad situation. In honor of that, Bert was keeping his cool. The young man decided to stop and get himself a tea. He walked into a shop that claimed to sell the beverage. “Starbucks”. Quite a silly name, he thought. What did stars have to do with tea? Of course, there was no one manning the counter, so Bert picked up the nearest drink off of the bar and tossed a loose coin onto the counter. Surely two pence would be more than enough for a cuppa.  He took a sip from the strange Styrofoam cup and immediately spit the liquid all over the counter. It was so sweet, unbearably sweet. It was the worst thing he’d ever tasted. “This ain’t tea, it ain’t tea,” Bert whispered, he was maybe losing it a bit. “Why’d it have to be America. I just want a cuppa tea,” He saw something out of the coner of his eye and looking over, realize a man had gotten hit by some of his faux-tea spray. “er…my apologies gov’ner,” Bert said, at a loss for how to handle this situation.

( @highfunctin ; liked for a canon starter)

Sherlock had gathered it was a lot different here. A lot of places were quite different than his home, certainly. You had more colors, less fog, and strange buildings with some naked lady and a name that didn’t match. He stopped in front of that last one, something about it had caught his eye. There was a sole person surrounded by an empty building with bags and various things left. His first instinct was to check it out. Maybe they knew something and all the answers would be laid out. Or maybe he’d be left with someone with at least something new he could use. When he got inside the room, he watched as the other bought, in the loosest sense of the term, one of the drinks. Before Sherlock could piece it all together, he felt a wet spot on his shirt. Normally he’d be open about his malcontent, but he put together that it was one of those situations where he had to feel something for the man if he wanted to get anywhere given the state. The other sounded somewhat like a lowerclassman from home, he could use that. Sherlock was quick to feign a smile and shake his head. “It is no problem at all- simple accident, I am sure...” He made his way over to behind the counter, maybe something could clean up the mess somewhat. “America does have the worst drinks from what I’ve heard- of course, you just witnessed it for yourself.” Nothing. Until he found some white paper handkerchiefs he could use. He took a large handful and made his way to wiping his shirt. He tried to mimic the things he’s seen his parents do when they tried to console him: closing his eyes a tad, making a smaller mouth, mimicking a softer quiet voice. “You look upset... Did you just find yourself here as well?”

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— okamurasaki.

“I can’t tell you much, but from what I’ve witnessed on my way here, there have been at least half a dozen of people who seemed just as confused of their current location as you and me,“ Murasaki responded, trying to be as clear as she could be. There was no need to give the young man any kind of idea that she knew more than she actually did. She was an intelligent woman, that’s for sure, but no matter how intelligent you actually were, coming up with a reasonable explanation of suddenly finding yourself in a place you have no idea about was… indeed quite something she couldn’t manage to do. When the stranger began to speak again, Murasaki’s attention didn’t last for too long. He’s definitely a talker, huh? She was just about to make a remark that she didn’t need his entire life-story, but before she could even do that, the man has moved towards the door. Well, what other option did she really have? Deciding to follow him, she quickened her pace and shook her head with a long sigh. “Are you seriously suggesting to set up a town meeting? The population of this place is at least a couple thousand. How on Earth do you think this would work? Are you planning just walking up to every random stranger and try to talk them into coming to the City Hall or something?“

“I am most definitely suggesting that. Half a dozen... That is plenty to get the word around, isn’t it, Watson?” A slip of the tongue that he didn’t even remotely hesitate with. “Locations aren’t the concern, but if the town hall was what I saw earlier, we are better off with a courthouse or the park. Somewhere larger- open.” Sherlock looked beside him, the woman was much older, but she seemed to be wiser than a majority of the people he has seen recently. Definitely French by her responses. The French tended to be a lot more curt... He liked curt though. It made it a lot easier to process the information. “But the point is to get everyone in one area. Using simple mathematics, once we begin to tell people they, in turn, tell others until we have most if not all of the town there. Then all we have to do is get some data- people are naturally social, it should be fairly easy to get information out of them and to get them to discuss... unless you have a better idea?” His plan wasn’t flawless, so he wanted to see how the other reacted. The woman was more than capable, but how much? Sherlock slowed down just enough for the two to be side by side. His face was neutral, but his eyes were full of interest. It just clicked. A case. This was a case and he was somehow excited. This was possibly the strangest one he has yet to encounter, and he knew he had to solve it- especially with a fresh face, town, and story.

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— notsowicked-wilcox.

Sally didn’t remember anything different from the night before. She’d said goodnight to her parents, watched some television, written about her life on her blog, and then gone to bed. And if she was honest, she hadn’t noticed anything really different about her house. It still had the same look to it. The same color, the same amount of garden gnomes outside, but maybe there was something different about it. She wasn’t paying much attention when she got up since she was half asleep. “I just remember going to bed last night. Nothing happened in the middle of the night.” She hadn’t even had any weird nightmares. “And the house looked the same to me.” But the more she talked about it, the more it didn’t feel the same.

“Looked? Are you sure? No differences or hidden details that would prove it was fake? That’s strange... Have you seen any of your friends? Where are you from, maybe your town had been moved? Or- rather maybe somebody is trying to take your land over? Real estate in the States I’ve heard is valuable. Oil and trains and whatnot. Yes- but that doesn’t make sense. How would you move an entire town- and why would I be here?” The male looked ahead, moving the girl beside him around a person despite the fact she could have done it herself. He wanted to keep them moving. If they aren’t supposed to be here, there could be a genuine danger. Maybe something interesting. “The human memory is odd, is it not? How can one not know where and how they’ve gone somewhere... Do you have any enemies? I mean I’ve had my fair share at your age so I would certainly not be embarrassed if I were you, but somebody who would have disliked you or your family? They could have wanted you out of the picture for something. I’m not sure what, you seem relatively harmless.”

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— notjustastoryteller.

Alright, so… the mystery of where she was had yet to be solved.  But, Wendy had been excited to find a book in her bag and had settled herself on a bench to try and get some of it read.  Right when she opened it to where the bookmark was, she was instantly frustrated to learn that she had no memory of reading the first half of it.  Sighing, Wendy paused, deciding to see what sort of other clues her bag had as to where she might be, but found that it contained next to nothing: a wallet, with what looked to be a little money, a key ring with two keys, some hard candy, and a strange looking, black rectangle.  Pulling out the rectangle, Wendy studied it, flipping it over in her hands.  Some teenagers walked past, their heads buried in what looked like similar rectangles, but theirs were lighting up.  Frowning, Wendy looked back to the device, knowing for a fact they had nothing like it back home and trying to figure out how to turn it on.  The other kids had gotten too far away, so Wendy awkwardly approached the next person who came along, holding out the cell phone.  “I am dreadfully sorry to interrupt you.  And this does seem like an incredibly embarrassing question, but… you wouldn’t know how to work this, would you?”

“It is one, absolutely. There’s an obvious mechanical explanation for your... contraption.” Sherlock had no idea what was in the other’s hands, but the fact she asked a stranger for help made the situation embarrassing to him but he just needed something to feel smart about so he snatched the box abruptly. He turned it around a few times. It was like a brick, but it had things jetting out almost to push. Could it be a weapon? Cautiously, with a blank expression, he pressed into one of the jetting blocks on the box and the screen lit up. It was a light. “Here, simple. I don’t know why you even needed help- it’s really just a simple light source.” The cellphone was being handed back over before a loud noise erupted from it, something like a chime but almost monotone. Nothing really alive though. Sherlock let go, and he almost dropped it. “That’s a rather odd light... Why do you have it? Especially since you cannot use it.” Of course, the answer was something obvious. It isn’t hers. She must have stolen it or gotten it somewhere else. But, still. Sherlock decided it was something he would ask anyway to be safe. Or to provide some sort of closure to the curiosity that hasn’t taken a break from growing. 

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— apricotjvice.

( @highfunctin liked for a canon week starter. )

Diana spent the whole day ceaselessly searching for some type of clue as to where this strange town was located, but there was no definitive answer. She was used to solving problems on her own, but she knew when to set her pride aside and ask for help. Normally she would have felt more comfortable depending on someone she knew personally for help, but beggars couldn’t be choosers in a situation like this. But, the real question was: could she find someone who looked trustworthy enough to approach. Her eyes scanned over the people passing her by on the street, most of them looking just as confused as she presently was. Her gaze fell upon the face of a boy who she considered trustworthy enough to stop considering she wasn’t intimidated by him. She latched onto the sleeve of his shirt, still not sure how personal boundaries worked. “Excuse me, where is this place? You look like you’d be the type to have some answers. I’ve gathered it’s Earth, but that’s about it…”

The consulting detective had been lost in his thoughts and had only been able to figure out their location: Virginia. Everything else seemed a mystery. Multiple victims, similar places- this place doesn’t seem to be on any map. The street names don’t make sense- the buildings are too new for Virginia.  There are so many problems with this place he can’t explain.  Sherlock’s eyes darted to his sleeve when he felt something on it. He followed a hand to an arm, then an arm to a neck, then to a face. Huh. The male’s head tilted in curiousity before the woman spoke. “You’ve gathered? Well clearly it is- that's one of those jokes, i get it... But, from what I’ve gathered, we are in Virginia. Where exactly? I’m unsure.” Sherlock attempted to back his arm while talking and after tried to gather who this person was. Nothing about her made complete sense. He decided she could be of use. “Where are you from?" It looks like she's from somewhere around Greece, but something about her accent tells him otherwise. "Did you find yourself here as well" He paused. "Idiotic question, of course you did. Rather, do you know why you’re here? How you’re here?”

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— okamurasaki.

This was all too weird for Murasaki to comprehend. She figured out as much as she could from the few bits of information she managed to find – she was in Virginia, the documents she had on her had a different name on them… Oka… and yet the picture was most definitely of her. She needed to know more, she had to know more. Stepping in a rusty looking diner, hoping to find somebody who could provide her with a few more bits and pieces of information she could go by – who knows what else she might be missing here. It was all too surreal. While she was minding her own business, a brutal grab of her forearm caused the woman to go into a defence mode as she chopped at the stranger’s wrist with her free hand. It wasn’t a surprise to hear the claims the man started putting on her, but she was quick to counter-argue him. “…And I’m supposed to be in France. I have no idea who you think I might be working for, but I would suggest keeping your hands where I can see them. Apparently there’s something crazy going on and not only for me… so we might group and figure it all out together or do it the survival of the fittest style.”

Sherlock was partially surprised at the sudden movement but understood it was his fault before he returned the gesture. He liked her. His sudden fit had stopped like a slap in the face. He took a moment to examine the other, she seemed dangerous. Somebody possibly trustworthy though, intelligent. He couldn’t see much, just the fact her words were quick. Hands went to his lap as he subtly rubbed the one that had been hit. “I see that now, but others have been afflicted? That’s interesting...” Sherlock’s brain processed it for a moment and he thought about it. “Grouping up could be useful, but it could slow me down- I have done the whole group thing before and it had not been wise. Cost the whole case- of course, a collective unit of minds given the strange transportation of bodies could be useful. Putting together a list of stories could help.” The man stood up and gave one moment’s thought before heading in a direction, expecting the other to follow suit. “We will have to figure out who is not supposed to be here, oui? How do you expect to do that- I mean we can simply walk around or we can set up a town meeting of sorts- I am not the best speaker, but it could do. While memories are fresh.”

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— imjackkelly.

Looking around Jack started to get concerned. This was not New York. The People were different, the girls we’re actually wearing oufits that showed leg ( and not the poofy dresses  ) and the boys all seemed to be wearing tight fitting clothes - not that Jack was complaining about either. But really he was lost and short of being kidnapped there could only be one answer to this. Grabbing the first person he saw he tapped them on the should. “Excuse me but is this Santa Fe?” Jack asked in a hopeful tone, hoping that someone had taken him there.

Upon being tapped the male was taken out of his trance and abruptly turned around. The other looked so kind. He didn’t trust him. “Santa Fe? No, obviously. The weather doesn’t match and just look at the architecture. It screams more colonial than brown... This seems closer to Maryland. Why? What’s so important in Santa Fe? Were you heading there?" No, he didn’t appear that he had. Sherlock didn’t have any indication of a bag or anything, but he couldn’t be sure. Nothing was something he could be sure about in his current state.

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— notsowicked-wilcox.

“Because no one wants to look weak around a stranger.” Sally muttered, more to herself than to the male. However, when she heard his name, another “What the what!?” escaped her lips. The Sherlock Holmes? Although for a split second, Sally wondered how that was possible, she then realized that she hailed from Spooksville. She and Watch had reanimated Frankenstein’s Monster. Although she wanted to correct him that she was fifteen, she decided to take his deduction that she looked older as a compliment. “I don’t know how we got here either. I woke up in my house, and when I stepped outside, I found myself here.” It was probably just an alternate version of Spooksville, considering her house was the same. But there was always her sneaking suspicion that a Templeton was behind it.

Eyes looked over her face at the other ‘what’ that came out, but decided it was against the point. He’ll keep it in mind, but it wasn’t important. What was, was the fact the other had given him some important information. “Knew something was up- do you remember anything? How you got here? Did you see anyone before?” He tried to recall if he had to no avail. “Is it your actual house? As far as you can recall, is it your model or is it something else?” How did somebody move a house? Let alone a town- or at least two separate people. What was their relation if any? Sherlock could tell nothing from what he had in front of him, he could tell so much yet it was impossible to tell anything about this. It was strange. His eyebrows squinted before he turned and moved to her side. Easier to talk and easier to travel around facing forward.

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— karinthesky.

At least she could still do this, Karolina thought to herself. The situation was awful, stressful, and she wanted nothing more than to be reunited with her friends at the moment but at least her powers still seemed to be working. Maybe showing herself like this, glowing, rainbow, flying, wasn’t the smartest thing to do but she hadn’t been able to think of what else to do. She had been making a shaky lap up in the air, but eventually had to give in or risk over exerting herself. With a sigh she landed in the park, hoping she hadn’t caught too much attention. She knew she was still glowing but she didn’t want to stop it. She could fight like this, could protect herself in case this was all just some trap. “It’s no use, I took a glance of this whole town and none of it is recognizable. This might as well just be the middle of nowhere.” She spoke out loud, mostly to keep herself focused, but definitely loud enough for anyone else to hear.

His hand was shaking from the moment the woman landed. She had to be some weapon, some chemical reaction gone wrong. But Sherlock couldn’t tell, just that she was glowing unhumanly and somehow possessed the ability to fly. Forget about how he got here, but how did that get here? Sherlock stepped closer when he heard her speak and subconciously went for his pack of hand rolled cigarettes. “Nowhere? Impossible, did you see any landmarks nearby? Any lakes, or forrests, or whatnot?” His time with maps could help, and despite the fact that being was terrifying, he needed results. He then brought out a match and lit his cigarette, bringing it to his lips in hopes of keeping his head. “Where are you from?” The question was almost mumbled, he’d love to get an answer but it wasn’t the time. What made her? There have been government facilities in his time, but none so advanced that they could make her. Maybe she’s a private entitiy. Some evil coorperation designed her to be their experimental weapon of mass destruction.