[ A few customers inch away, but as the light projections move around, they realize that the light doesn't even feel warm. Their fingers move right through with nary an effect upon them. It's only unsettling in appearance. In short, as long as they don't stare at them for too long, the light poses no danger. Other regular, customers have seen Sherlock use his magic within the cafe before, usually for demonstration of some kind. They know him as someone who tries to help others and has had a real rough time lately, risking his life and nearly dying in the process.

Sherlock snaps his fingers again to dispel most of the projections. He keeps the projections "blocking" the stairs up to his apartment on the second floor. Tentacles wrap around the lighthouse, suckers gripping tightly. Eyes line the wall, looking in Surge and Kitsunami's direction. One giant axe swings back and forth over the entryway.

Dear Lord, both of them are now here. Sherlock may be alone, but he can't surrender. Not this place. Not his home. ]

Now, that is a proper question and what should have happened outside instead of launching me into the air. I fell through some sort of doorway and ended up here. I did not intend to nor did I purposely enter the doorway. That is all that had happened and did not warrant threatening my life upon my arrival.

[ He honestly does not believe Surge (or Kitsunami) will listen to him. However, he will make that point regardless. ]