Tag: Murder Master

2nd of January, 2024

2nd of January, 2024

9pm; Patsy Palmer awoke to a soft purple lights in her room and a tablet laying on the round table she had not paid much attention to before. It was flashing a soft purple light every few seconds. When she touched it she heard a robotic voice come on that people in this world would recognize as Optimus Prime.

…Greetings Patsy Palmer, I am Optimus, your digital assistant on DalusNET. Garrick pushed and update to his network giving you access to the Century Station CityNET and the Internet at large. This tablet was left in this room for guests, and due to an “indefinite guest” label he has assigned for your access, this tablet now has been formatted and assigned to you. On the steel table with the four white chairs you have been left all the instruction manuals for the key card, the crystal slab smart phone, and to quote: “plethora of clothes from two thrift stores.” A reminder note some simple cubed chicken and parsley-scallion humus has been left in the fridge with tea, and finally all of the paperwork he could find on identity establishment for “undocumented” births…

About two seconds later to flashing buttons appeared on a pop-up: “Do you wish to acknowledge the receipt of this message? [YES] or [NO]

Tapping yes prompted another text message, timestamped at 7pm, “Patsy, I am over at the Giving Tree shelter helping the kids with dinner service and clean up. I should be back about 11pm. I made a little something for you, not sure if you’ll like it so there is a pre-packed Caesar salad as plan B. -G”

He had almost seemed to helpful, but as she wandered around the upper floor she noticed the doors to his room were retracted and open. Wandering pass that she found the table with everything the message said would be there. There was a note on the clothing about how to access the washer and dryer. When she came upon his research regarding getting an identity legally there was yet another note.


Since we have the situation of some alien beings acquiring Visa’s and a “resident alien” status I feel this is the most “LEGAL” route available to us. As the only other ‘district’ like Washington D.C., we have a second HQ for this kind of specialized immigration. I was going to talk to you about this but you didn’t answer any knocking, so I am assuming you’re asleep. Now the next two options both involve deception on our part. If you wish to keep your home dimension a secret I can see no other path other than one or a mix of two of the following:

  • Assume someone’s identity: This is straight up illegal and I REALLY don’t want to do it, but I know a gal that handled fake I.D.’s for me once.
    • #1 Write a letter to the “State Department of Health and Vital Statistics” (this has to be the same state your husband was born in; however in our case Century Station has its own being a district), requesting a birth certificate. In your letter, you have to provide at least 5 main pieces of information about the person you are applying for. This can include date of birth, child’s name, parent’s names, place of birth, etc. Do not mention that you are without a birth certificate since your whole goal is to receive a letter back from the state declaring that you do not have a birth record.
      • Note 1: You will also have to include a money order of $21.50 to cover the birth certificate processing; this money will be returned to you when they find out there is no birth certificate. I believe Century Station is $30.00 for this
      • Note 2: Bear in mind that your state laws and fees may be slightly different than our state (Ohio). For the most part they match the Ohio example I found. 
      • Note 3: You will have to apply for the birth certificate in the same state that your husband was born in. Keep reading below I believe I have a solution NOT requiring marriage, let’s face it that would be ultra-creepy and awkward.
    • #2 Once you have the letter from the state, saying you DO NOT have a birth record, then you will take that letter to your local court house as proof that you do not have a birth record. At that point, you have to go through a number of hoops and eventually the judge will make a ruling that you can get a birth certificate written up. Sometimes, it can take up to a full year and get very discouraging.
      I NEED YOU TO UNDERSTAND that I did not bring this option up to scare you, it’s just the research I found. PLEASE go test the key card, test the door. You can leave anytime you want I have no ulterior motive here.
  • Foundling: Now I think this idea has merit and if aspects of the second idea is used I feel we might be able to make this work with the least amount of lying possible.
    • OPTION #1: You were left on a church in the Waingroh sub-district, you were a survivor of the Bloody Monday riots and can’t remember whom you are. I met you after I was released from jail and let you stay with me. If we (please understand I am aware the marriage would be a lie, and never actually happen) approach the judge with the angle of needing a license to wed, but without a birth certificate can’t make that happen it might work.
    • OPTION #2: I like this plan more – Partial Amnesia. You were left on a church in the Waingroh sub-district, you were a survivor of the Bloody Monday riots and can’t remember whom you are other than the church which is now destroyed. In order to even get access to public services we need a new birth certificate. I met you after I was released from jail and let you stay with me. We have been trying every loose end we can (let them think we’re boyfriend and girlfriend all they want) but are running out of options.
      So I think we follow the TWO STEP PROCESS and then add Foundling: OPTION#2 to it, and blamo! I feel this plan does not contractually obligate you to me in any way, and is the most benign truth-breaking I can come up with. So read through everything again and maybe you can see an angle I did not.



Patsy re-read the options again. “That’s a lot to take in,” she muttered. Then she smiled. This “Garrick” was trying so hard to be thoughtful and honestly, she never would’ve thought about trying to establish a legal identity here on this second Earth. It made a lot of sense. She was stuck here for the time being and having a legal identity would make being here easier. Plus, she needed to prepare for the worst case scenario – that she may never go home. Patsy closed her eyes. “Heldamm,” she whispered. Nothing happened.

She opened her eyes and sighed. She wouldn’t give up. If she was going to be here for a while she needed to do this also to pull her weight. Garrick was letting her stay for now, but she wasn’t planning on being a freeloader. Looking back at the note he left for her she started planning out loud. “Let’s see… no, I agree, I’d rather not take someone’s identity… but let’s not discount a simple fake I.D. for the time being. This stuff about writing to prove I have no birth record is weird – I’m not getting married just to do that! The “foundling” option he mentioned at the end seems like the best route. Seems like he’s got this pretty-well thought out. He does mention that we’d have to pose as a couple… that’s weird. Well… he said I had access to the internet so I think I’ll just look that up myself to see why.”

Spending the next two hours doing some research while washing the clothes he gave her, she heard the insulated garage door. She wandered over to the ledge over looking the training area. It was about a 15-foot drop to the floor below but gave an excellent viewing angle of Garrick’s truck pulling in with the door shutting behind it. She watched him exit the truck in nice slacks and a fancy polo shirt that was emblazoned with the Mallic Robotics in racing team style along the arm and back. He walked over to a work table with a pole in the center and four monitors mounted. He pulled another tablet on the table over to him and started typing. He tapped and icon and said a few words which echoed over the house a few seconds later, “Patsy, ma’am, I’m back from the shelter.” Tilting his head either way waiting for a possible reply he headed to the stair case and started heading up.

Patsy moved over to the island in the kitchen area that they talked at all last night. Finishing up her salad and using some red, corn tortillas to eat the parsley hummus she looked over at him, “You donate time at a shelter?”

Putting a picture of a hand-drawn robot with a stylized “Mallic” “M” on its chest to the frig door with a magnet he smiled, “I was trying to build homes for all of those children and ones I will likely never see all over the world. After committing my one crime the least I can do is help feed them, read a story or two and do the dishes with the staff. They deserve the future I failed to hold on to, they’re the future I need to protect.”

Seeing him reply so passionately once more, “But your parole is over why are you..?”

“Because of you, because of people like the Murder Master,” he poured a cup of water and pulled up a chair at the island allowing for the middle chair between as a buffer, “Ashmadiel coming into my life via an act of larceny, saving you from certain death, all I am figuring out is nothing is like the comics or cartoons we grew up on. Figuring out how to care for you while your here on my world, how to get your powers back, how to get you home, and how we’ll stop Murder Master is not some simple – LOOK, I SAVED THE GIRL – moment. I know so many stories about the heroes: Mavericks or Centurions tackling the big fish at the expense of the little guy or gal. I want those kids at the Giving Tree shelter to know heroes don’t always wear capes and being normal does not make you incapable of being a hero. I want to give them hope, hope that I fear I’ve lost.”

She decided to file away the moment he said “we’ll” stop Murder Master, “Did one of them draw the robot there?” Looking back at the fridge door in the wall console unit he smiled and nodded saying that they think Mallic Robotics builds the robot heroes. He laughed briefly that maybe they build some elbow joints or stabilizing struts used in those armored suits. They talked about how every Tuesday he would go down and spend time at the Giving Tree. He did it as an anchor for when he wondered why he started fighting crime he would think of a brighter future for those kids. Garrick’s phone began buzzing and he pulled a foldable tablet out and began typing on the screen briefly. Patsy looked and saw streams of numbers and characters rushing past with a sudden stop, “Garrick what’s that?”

“A script I run once a day checking on the one active bio-dome, Dalus Dome Incorporated, ever built with a sustainable mini-cold-fusion reactor. My father, was the genius behind the power and I did everything else.”

“Wait cold-fusion? I read a little about the person called Alpha Prime and won’t she/it have already taken it?”

Garrick shook his head, “I put it into low-power maintenance mode when the alien began rounding everything up. There is some interference in the minerals or the water in the area and it’s been overlooked. If I ever take it out of that state to full power it will likely become a blip on her watchtower.”

Patsy tilted her head to one side, “Wouldn’t this land you in jail?”

“Oh, I doubt that, I don’t think the Earth governments will be so quick to hand over tech again since Alpha Prime did not help them into a “Galactic Age” of advancement. For now, I just leave it alone and make sure the script comes back stable, but my father built it and I am not half the genius he was.”

Asking her about how she was doing brought up his plan to legalize her identity. He agreed and would begin looking for his contact about a simple fake ID. When it came to the posing as a couple Garrick mentioned that it looks like Patsy would need a sponsor to help support her claim before a judge, “The reason to write in and be told you don’t have a birth certificate suggests that at one point you did. With the only records being held at a church and destroyed in Bloody Monday more than a few people have had this exact issue. A judge may not believe in the kindness of a stranger but a boyfriend trying to help his girl is easier to sallow. Besides without having a preacher to act as a character witness the “couple” route is the easiest to pull off.” He held up his hands though, “Don’t tell me your answer yet, take 24 hours and really chew on it, research it yourself, come to your own conclusions. I am tired and see a few hours of sleep before I head out on patrol and then work in the morning. Then it’s off to the actual library at the university to try and find everything Sumerian I can for you.”

“Garrick, you don’t have do all…”

“Please forgive me this one interruption, ma’am,” Patsy noted the quaint speech return and paused, “Evil happens when good men do nothing, or in this case drop the ball half way to saving the day.” A cocky grin, and one bow toward her he strode past her into his room, “Have a great night and we can chat more on the morrow I am bushed, Optimus, set a timer alarm for 3 hours, go.”

“Yes Garrick, here you go.”

Patsy was bemused and irritated at the quixotic nature of her benefactor, “At least this knight seems more plausible than the one from LaMancha. I almost think he can do it.”

Being Kind Can Be Heroic

Being Kind Can Be Heroic

Patsy PalmerPatsy Palmer, aka: Hyperia is from the world of Millennium Station. She has a bachelor degree in Archeology from her world and it is where she stumble upon the gateway to the wizard, Heldamm. He bestowed upon her the last of his energy in hopes she might carry on the fight against evil and inspire a brighter tomorrow. Then he disappeared as though he became energy and she began to glow a bright red as the “place” she was in began to crumble about her. She ran through the gateway so quickly compared to before only turning around to see it crumble behind her. Since that day she has taken on the Hero Identity of Hyperia. While she has never joined a team of heroes she has fought alongside many such groups at various times.

Her last adventure in the world of Millennium Station was against a villain known as Murder Master. His murderous rampage throughout the city seemed unstoppable. Hero after hero was cut down mercilessly as they tried in vain to apprehend him. Reason, mercy, and restraint were soon abandoned, however, as the death toll rose. The Heroes abandoned all these ideals in their desperate struggle to stop this man and the city doubly suffered. By the time she and her current friends arrived on the scene it was nothing but pure carnage and destruction. Her friends went straight for the madman himself while Hyperia lingered amongst the wreckage and the dead, momentarily stunned at the sheer devastation all around. Their fight didn’t last long. Like the heroes who had come before, they were no match for the deceptively ordinary man. Their deaths were brutal but mercifully quick. Murder Master apathetically kicked the severed head of her team’s leader out of his way and tried to walk off. The head rolled in her direction and came to rest nearby, facing her. His lifeless eyes stared accusingly at her.

Hyperia snapped and flew at the Murder Master, screaming! Fists clenched, arms locked forward, and red energy flames burning from her eyes, rushing along the sides of her face from her speed! Murder Master saw her and pulled something out from within his coat to point at her. Before she could register or react a disk of pure darkness formed between him and her. She couldn’t help but fly through it at top speed, then BLACKNESS!

She awoke in an alley 3 weeks ago, Monday December 25th, 2023 in Brisby Flats. She registered shock at two indisputable facts almost simultaneously: the destroyed city she was just in was now reconstructed, and she had transformed out of her heroic identity of Hyperia back into her regular human form. She struggled to get her bearings but none of the signs matched what she knew of the Devon Row borough of Millennium Station. It took a few days of being homeless, chased, and soup kitchen charity to find out enough to realize she was in an alternate universe somehow! What was Devon Row, Midway, and Monarch Mesa was named subtly different in this world and Millennium Station was now Century Station! What was worse is her connection to Heldamm, was now gone! All her powers had been stripped from her. Any pleas she made for aid were scoffed at as though she was crazy or high. Knowing all of her companions were dead she began suffering survivor’s guilt, she tried chanting to reconnect to Heldamm and the power he had bestowed upon her.

On January 1st, she decided to try an spark her power of flight or die trying. Finding and empty dumpster near the fire escape, she climbed up past the locked rungs on its ladder. Seven stories high she made it on to the roof and chanted in quiet for a full two hours before 2 a.m. She had used a stolen box of sea salt and various candles to perform a summoning ritual and while she received no perceivable form success. Patsy walked to the edge of the building still chanting “Heldamm, Heldamm, Heldamm…” She turned her back out in case it didn’t work she wouldn’t accidentally see it coming. Chanting away she tilted back until gravity seized her!

After a few seconds of free fall she felt herself stop and begin quickly moving up and away from the building! She opened her eyes only to see a lightly armored knight with a wickedly-edged, sword carrying her! She blurted out angrily he had screwed up the ritual. He replied she was being a smidgen ungrateful having had her life just saved. She tried to get out of his arms but he had a superheroes’ strength and then she noticed they were still flying. She calmed herself and asked him whom he was.

“You can call me the Gryphon, and I know things can be depressing, I’ve been there myself. How can I help?”

Patsy asked him to land so she could explain even though she expected him to laugh at her. He landed gently on a nearby building as tall as the one she had made her attempt from and he removed his helmet revealing a dirty blond hair color, compassionate amber-brown eyes, a healthy square very German jaw, and a well trimmed handle bar mustache. Settling himself on a sturdy utility box he gestured to one across from him as he took that strange, almost angelic-berserker looking sword and held it out. It completely broke its form down into a exploding mass of golden colored-like mercurial substance! Then it formed into the most beautiful gilded arm-guard. Patsy took her perch as he nodded, “Whenever you are ready, ma’am.”

Struck by quaint term she looked him up and down but could not detect any sarcasm in his body language or her gut, he was in fact being, polite. Shrugging her shoulders for strength and then letting them slump in resignation she began, “I was once a hero like you, only I come from an alternate universe.”

“Wait, like the Erwin Schrödinger lecture he gave in 1952 regarding simultaneous histories? Oh and,” then he smacked his face, “ma’am I am sorry I got excited and interrupted you, please continue.”

This muscle bound, sword wielding jock knew of Erwin Schrödinger? Well he certainly wasn’t laughing, and she went on to explain she had been empowered by the wizard Heldamm to fight evil. She had run across him as an archaeologist on a dig in Iraq. While she spent the next few years fighting alongside some Super-Teams in, Millennium Station, she never got around to joining one. Then from nowhere came the Murder Master. She told Gryphon about the events leading up to her arrival and he looked at her with sadness, but not pity. When she explained that magic wielding heroes on her world were a bit more common Gryphon held up a finger. She paused when he slowly tapped his angelic looking vambrace upon his arm and said, “This is the Gryphon’s Guardian Angel, Ashmadiel. According to the sword itself it was an angel that had its soul and physical essence forged into this weapon through magic.”

Patsy cocked her head to the side, a fricking magic sword that talks!? Why, how, who cares she thought as she said, “May I see it?”

Gryphon paused the way old phonographs have a skipping needle before playing again. This time events played almost completely in reverse as the vambrace exploded in the golden mercury and reformed into the sword, to which the Gryphon offered up in his open palms. She took the weapon and examined it, particularly the markings on the damascus-etched steel-looking blade. She began to nod and eventually handed the sword back, to which Gryphon returned it to the angelic looking vambrace upon his arm.

“Well,” she said, “I suppose their is hope since that blade is indeed magical.”

Gryphon nodded, then tilted his head down as though he heard something other than what was common in the Norwood sub-district. A few second later he turned back to Patsy, “Would you promise not to tell anyone what I am about to tell you?”

Laughing, “Good grief, whom am I going to tell? But yes, I promise to not divulge the information you are about to share.”

The Gryphon seem to explode in golden mercury and when it shrunk back on itself the explosion revealed Garrick in his 5’8″ size down from 6’4″ and a lot plainer in physical appearance, however, a defining characteristic stayed: that handlebar mustache. This time the sword transformed back into itself before becoming an eagle-face bracelet upon his wrist. His arms rather sheepishly waved out to either side with a more compact muscle mass as if to say – this is the real me. “My name is Garrick Faulkner, Patsy Palmer, and I am very pleased to meet you,” and this was how he opened his story.

He talked about being descended from William Faulkner the poet, novelist, and screenwriter. How he had designed a fusion powered Bio-Dome and thanks to Alpha Prime taking Dr. Sarnhoff, and nearly every scrap of research that was founded upon ideas gained from the project called: Daedalus. His father Cuthbert Faulkner had a heart attack seeing Dalus Dome Incorporated vanish nearly overnight. His father’s co-investor, the Zarovsky family, bought him a building in Brisby Flats. They even bought Garrick a wonderfully brand new luxury truck with every bell and whistle that could be crammed into it, barring flight options. Still he couldn’t let go that if he could find some of the tech before it was taken off-world he could prove his dome was not only viable, but could be reproduced cheaply! Then he could follow Dr. Sarnhoff’s example of limitless energy only it would be limitless housing that would integrate into the environment. Once that had traction he could help mankind colonize the moon and they could begin moving into the stars!

Alas, he stated he had not been strong enough to re-forge his path but tried to gather some thugs and steal a truck holding what was now deemed forbidden tech. No innocent was harmed in the robbery more than a few bruises from being tossed out of a cab. He mentions that he only got away with two boxes and one is lost because someone found it while he was serving his sentence and parole. The other box contained the sword he now wields, “I have a lot to atone for and if you’ll let me I would like to help you get home where you can be Hyperia once again. We have universities here and even if we can’t get you home, plan ‘B’ could be finding Heldamm in this world? Maybe the Sumerian Gods could be reached via an artifact of some kind and you could forge another connection to them?”

He smiled but he never laughed at her, not once.

When he asked if she would like to stay in one of the spare rooms at his place so she could get off the streets she agreed never in her life imagining an ex-felon being so nice. “Oh, on the way back I need to stop in an alley,” he said to her, “stop, it’s not what you’re thinking. I broke up a drug deal between a pusher of some guy named, “Fat Lucca” and four buyers. They dropped a bunch of cash as the fight went on, that I hoping we can gather up for your needs. Two of them had these injector needles and I need to find so I can analyze the compounds. These guys used theses ‘SUPER Steroids’ to bulk and rage out on me. If a new drug or delivery system is hitting the streets then I need to find a quiet way to stop this.” Patsy noticed that he had transformed as he was talking about doing something truly heroic, and dumb if it was solo. He had also began to float off the ground a few inches. “I would have said no a month ago, but now let’s just do it quickly.”

They went back to the alley and found $500 strewn about, which the Gryphon promptly gave to Patsy. He found the two injector systems but the thugs he put down were gone and CSPD was starting to round the corner on to the same street. They flew off into the air and landed back at Garrick’s truck he had parked several blocks away. Upon driving back to his building which said ‘Mallic Robotics’ on the side. Patsy remarked she never took him for being so tech savy given the magic he had access to. He shrugged and said he is still figuring out his new path in life but he has used the rent to repay the Zarovsky family for his truck, and about three years out from completely repaying them for the building.

Hitting the garage door opener when they pulled up to the gate and then replied to the secondary text message with a six digit pin found on a key fob for his truck keys. Only then did the gate and garage door open up and close after he passed through them. His place was huge! Two stories and a basement with copious camera surveillance, no windows, an insulated lifting garage door, key pad and badge entry for the one exterior door. It clearly reminded her of an industrial loft bought by cyber-hero from comics she used to read. His portion of the building was 80 feet by 140 feet in dimensions. He had a dedicated training area that was 30 feet across and open above to a catwalk for observation by anyone on the second floor! When they made it upstairs he showed her the room and then at the island in his kitchen talking till dawn about the ‘differences’ between her world and his.

As dawn rose and his alarms went off to wake him up normally. He made sure she knew how to lock her door, and then made sure she had a key card, a new transparent candy-bar phone. Lastly, he made sure she knew how to use it, and made her show him. When she asked why he was very thorough he told her that he felt it was important she not feel like she was a prisoner in any way shape or form. He left her at the front with the parting words, “After my maintenance window is up and the code patched I will work on finding legal ways to establish you an identity. To be fair there maybe be a bit of falsehood involved if we’re keeping your homeworld a secret. I will bring you what I find, but the choice is up to you. I will support you no matter what you choose to do.”

The door clicked shut to his down stairs office and she was alone, free, sheltered, and fed by some food he had whipped up. She smiled to herself over how she had just been saved. She headed to the shower, excited to get clean again but also hopeful once more about her uncertain future.




Art by: AZ_Artisan