#reblog story

[kybercrystals94]

Bad Batch Story Writing Game

RULES:

When you see the post, reblog and add ONE SENTENCE to the story.

Add nothing else, just one sentence. Don’t tag anyone or comment on the progress of the story (except in the tags)

You cannot reblog yourself!! But if someone reblogs you, you CAN reblog them!

Keep the whole reblog chain! That way we can read the story ^_^

The story will branch off in random directions, and that’s where the fun comes in. The story can go so many ways!

Please keep content SFW so that everyone can participate comfortably.

If everything goes well, I’m gonna compile the different stories and see what kind of chaos us gremlins created!

Vague Plot: Clone Wars Era and Echo has recently joined Clone Force 99.

Start:

Shore leave is supposed to be a time of relaxation, distance from the throes of the war, and enjoying the company of your brothers; it is not supposed to be like this.

[purity-in-heart]

Reblog Story: Heart of the Car

You and your partner sat in the car. While you looked out the window in the passenger seat, your partner sneaks a stemoscope head under-shirt. You hear your partner fiddle with the radio controls, but unknown to you, the Bluetooth is being brought up. You perk up when you suddenly hear a constant, steady heartbeat booming inside the car, emanating from the speakers both front and back perfectly. You look to your partner, who is already looking back, smiling....

What happens now...?

[laurentidal]

This is so insanely good

It's been a while since you've seen a doctor, and you're nervous as you follow the nurse back to my office. What's there to be nervous about, this is just a little checkup, right? You notice the nurse's manicured burgundy nails as she knocks sharply on the door. She turns to you, smiling prettily, and says, "the doctor will see you now."

You push open the door and enter quite a large room. The nurse follows, closing the door behind you. In the center is the examination table, off to the right is a small crowd of young adults, appearing to be made up of men and women, and on the left is me, seated at my desk. "Welcome," I say, standing and extending one hand. My voice is deep, warm, and smooth, and you fumble for a moment, blushing a little, before you remember to shake my hand. Your hand is dwarfed in mine, my strong fingers encircling you, and a thought flashes unbidden through your mind - what would those fingers feel like inside you? - but, come on now, that's really not appropriate...

"I have a few students with me, as you can see. Is that alright?"

"Well, yes, of course!" Why shouldn't it be?

"Excellent. Now, I'm pioneering this new full-body examination method - it's really quite extraordinary, the maladies I can detect this way - but be warned, it is, shall we say, unorthodox. Is that alright?"

Just for a moment, you see something in my eyes, something behind the genial smile and gentle, reassuring tone. Just for a moment, you feel like some specimen, some piece of meat, pinned down under the lights with nowhere to go... but just for a moment. Surely, nothing bad can happen, and I'm a doctor, aren't I? You can trust me. So you swallow your fear, and you acquiesce.

"Excellent! Let's have a seat on the table, if you don't mind, and we'll make a start. Nurse V, if you would..."

As you sit on the table, the clinical, sterile seating a little cold against your skin, the pretty nurse steps behind the table, facing you, waiting for something. From your right, I approach, and you feel again just how much larger than you I am as my broad shoulders block out one of the ceiling lights. With all these people watching you, it takes all you have not to squeeze your legs together, just a little bit.

We begin with a quick examination of your face - "you have beautiful eyes, you know," I purr into one ear. I place one hand on the side of your neck and tilt your head; god, you've been reading too much, haven't you, the way you want these strong, expert fingers to close around your throat.

"Now, open your mouth for me, please." You oblige, and I cup your chin and slide my thumb into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue. Your eyebrows jump in surprise, and you look at me questioningly.

I smile again, still inside you. "Unorthodox, remember? Now, close your mouth and try to swallow." From behind, the nurse strokes your cheek with the back of one hand, and you feel a sudden ache between your legs. You close your lips around my thumb and swallow. It tastes... clean, mostly, as one might expect from a doctor, but you can taste the sweat underneath.

"Very good, one more time for me."

You swallow again, and you feel me slide my thumb over the surface of your tongue, pressing down, swirling in circles.

"And, one more time... yes, that's it, good job, very good job."

The praise for this degrading task is more than you can bear, and you squeeze your thighs together. Fuck, it's humiliating, everyone just saw you do that... All these eyes on you, the beautiful nurse behind you, this big, strong doctor with these big, strong hands and that big fucking bulge... but no, this is just a checkup, nothing is going to happen, right?

While you were thinking, I dried my hand off and had begun speaking.

"I'm - I'm sorry?"

"No worries. I was saying, can you remove your top, please? We need to examine your heart and your breathing."

You stare at me. "Remove my - "

"Yes, remove your top. The fewer barriers between me and you, the less interference with my examination." My face is quite serious, almost bored - this really must be routine. You look back at the nurse, and she smiles slightly and nods. So you undress, your nipples betraying you, standing at attention. You blush as the crowd of students looks at you intently. The nurse lays one warm hand on your shoulder, slender fingers gripping you reassuringly, and your eyes are drawn once more to those burgundy nails.

I step in close, and you feel my breath warm on your chest. "Now, observe the stiffness in the patient's nipples - this is to be expected, given the cool air, and it's certainly nothing to be ashamed of," I say, smiling. I press my stethoscope up over your heart, the metal cold on your skin, and your mind is betrayed by the pounding of your heart. My eyes flick up to meet yours, and I grin, predatorily, and once again you feel like a piece of meat beneath the lights.

I examine your breasts, starting with your left. Enclosed in my big, strong hands, I squeeze and push, prod and pull, ostensibly feeling for any abnormalities, but the way my fingers brush over your nipples, the intensity with which I sink them into your soft breasts, heaving now as your breath comes faster... My practiced tongue rasps over one nipple and a tiny moan escapes your lips as you try desperately to hide how much you're enjoying this; try desperately, and fail.

Abruptly, I pull back. "Excellent! All seems well here." I rest one hand on your other shoulder and turn to the students. "Note the pleasure response during this section of the examination, and I hope you were paying attention to the oral technique."

I turn back to you, my eyes dancing as they meet yours. "Fully undress, if you would. The inspection must continue."

Your hands tremble as you slide your clothes down off your waist, and the nurse aids you, her lovely hands stroking along your thighs and calves as she does.

"And spread for us, please."

Obediently, your thighs open, exposing your cunt, your needy, aching wetness, to all.

"Note the beauty of the patient's sex, here. The shape of the folds," I murmur, tracing one finger along your sensitive lips, "the balanced ratio of the clitoris to the vulva overall," sliding two fingers on either side of your clit, squeezing gently between them, "the appropriate pleasure response in - "

You lose what I say as I plunge two fingers inside you, powerful and dextrous, knuckles slipping past your tightness easily. It feels so fucking good to finally have something inside you, after all this aching and teasing, and god, so many people are watching, they're all watching your pussy spread and toyed with by this big, strong, handsome older man, and now the nurse's slender fingers are across your throat and her lips are on your forehead, and she tells you that you're doing so well for me, you've been so good...

My fingers press up inside you, finding your g spot, and with my thumb rubbing on your clit, I start melting you. Waves of pleasure course through your body, you gasp, moan, whimper, and with your eyes closed you can't tell whose lips are so soft on yours, but it feels so fucking good, and all those people are watching and it makes you want it more, your back arching, chest heaving, melting under the attention, and finally, mercifully, you cum, contracting around my fingers, squeezing your thighs together, trembling, shaking, gasping for air. You hear me say something, but you're so overwhelmed with pleasure that all you can make out from my speech is "very, very good".

The hand withdraws from your throat, and I gently, gently, extricate my fingers, and settle my hand atop one thigh, fingers slick with your desire.

The nurse whispers affirmation in your ear as I address the class. "Stimulation in this manner, of the two most sensitive sex stimuli, brings the most consistent and powerful orgasms to those possessing these organs." I stroke the inside of your thigh reassuringly, before turning to you.

"The final part of this examination is seeing how well you handle penetration. I'm going to need your unequivocal verbal consent before proceeding."

The nurse leans in and whispers into your ear, "might I suggest 'please, sir, will you fuck me?'" You'd blush harder if you could.

You swallow, nervously, and there's a twisting in your gut as you say it. "Please," you begin, voice cracking. "Please, sir, will you fuck me?"

"Yes, that is sufficient. I must say, though," I warn, unzipping my jeans, "that I am quite large." I slap my cock down on your tummy, and the sheer weight of it shocks you. You've seen size like this in porn, sure, but fuck, you've never touched something like this. When you tear your gaze away from my cock, I'm grinning down at you, predatory again. "You can back out at any time, you know." My voice is low, teasing, challenging. "Should we continue?"

You nod shakily, and spread your legs a little wider.

One hand on your raised knee, one hand guiding my cock, I push against you. For a moment you realize the exam had to be done in this order; if you weren't so fucking wet, there's no chance you'd be able to take me. But all thoughts are blasted out of your mind as I push harder and slide in.

It's so fucking thick that you can't help but groan. You've never felt so full, so strained inside, being pushed in every direction; you're not built for this, maybe there's just too much, your body is rejecting me - and then I push again, another few inches, and you slam your head back against the padded table, a long, drawn-out "fuuuuuck" wrenched from your lips. You feel my strong hands brace at your hips, and with a final thrust, slamming your cervix up into your guts, moving your entire body, the ridges of my cock sliding deeper and deeper, sliding painfully, pleasurably past your walls, I'm inside you.

The nurse rests her hands on you again, and purrs in your ear, "you're doing so well for him, I know it's hard, it's so hard, but you're doing such a good job, pretty girl..."

Glacially, I pull out, allowing you a moment to rest, before thrusting in again, hands still at your waist. You sob once, loudly, and then you sink into it as I pick up a rhythm, deep, deep strokes inside you. You hear me grunting, whispering something, and I grow more frantic, impaling you a little harder, and through the wall of pleasure you hear me rumble, "nurse V, begin the overstimulation procedure."

"Certainly, doctor." She leans over you, lips fiercely meeting yours, and one of those slender hands reaches down to abuse your clit. An image of those burgundy nails on your cunt flashes through your mind as I continue pounding you, forcing you to spread for me, adjust to me, even as the nurse plays your clit like an instrument, and fuck, she's a virtuoso.

You sing a song of moans and voiceless curses under our combined mastery, knowing your audience is entranced, filled with a blazing, lusty pride. The deep bass of my voice, resonant in your skull, is saying something, but you cannot hear me; you're moaning, groaning, pleading, "yes, yes, oh my god yes" over and over...

The song swells to a crescendo and with two sudden strikes, two powerful thrusts into you, it ends with a thick, hot, sticky white wave of my approval inside you. You feel it pulse deep, deep inside, filling you, load after load delivered straight past your bruised, abused cervix.

You come back to reality with my cum spilling from between your legs, trailing thickly down onto the exam table. I zip up my jeans while the nurse helps dry you off, from all the sweat and saliva. She dabs caringly at your mouth, and you notice that the cloth is dyed the same shade as her lipstick.

"Now," I address the class, "I hope you were paying attention." I rest one hand on your aching, trembling thigh. How many times did you cum with me inside you? How long were all these people watching you writhe beneath me, begging, losing yourself in the pleasure? You have no fucking clue. "This patient has bravely volunteered for each of you to examine her, here and now, while she's available to us."

Your jaw drops. When did you agree to that? You would never - but you were begging, "yes, yes, yes" earlier, weren't you, while I was talking. You agreed. Everyone heard you say it.

"One at a time, please. And," I say to you, grinning wolfishly, "don't worry. I'll be watching the entire time."

[lesbxdyke]

I could think of no better way to share the news than this!

So when I was 17, my cat went missing and I'd given up hope of ever seeing him again.

Until on Monday, 27th of May, 2024, my friend sent me a FB post asking 'isn't that your mother?' about the person named on the microchip.

Here he is! 16 years old, and found safe, twelve whole years after he went missing!

Yesterday (Tuesday the 28th of May, 2024) I went to the rescue that had him, and I reclaimed my boy, renaming him Artie! (He'd originally been called 'Cat' because my mother and I couldn't decide on a name)

He's home safe with me now, currently inhabiting my bathroom and purring up a storm every time someone goes in there!

I'll be doing slow introductions between him and my current cat to give them the best possible chance of living in harmony!

Here's some pictures of Artie once we let him out of the carrier:

[softwaring]

[bamsara]

I think that one thing people fail to understand is that unsolicited literary criticism coming from an online stranger who is reading with no knowledge of what the authors intended goal is, is not going to be received the same as say: the authors beta reader or friends who know what the authors intended goal and has the sufficient knowledge and input to help the author reach that desired outcome.

"But I'm only trying to be helpful" How do I know you have the knowledge and literary skill for you to be able to actaully do that when we don't know each other and you are essentially a stranger to me? Are you applying this criticism based out of personal biased experience and desire to see the story or characterization be driven in another direction or tweaked, or do you know the author's intentions for the character? If the story is incomplete, are you basing your criticism of a character on the incomplete narration with only partial information available of them or are you building up a report until the story's completion? Did the author provide you with the information needed to make a fully informed criticism?

Have you discussed with the author what their plans are or are you assuming them based off the narration, especially if the narration is proven or implied to be unreliable or missing key points of the plot? Are you unbiased enough to help them reach their desired outcome for the characters and story regardless of your personal feelings towards the characters/antagonists and setting? Can you handle being told your specific input isn't wanted because you're a reader and/or have no written anything relating to their genre or topic? Do you understand and respect that the author's personal experiences might influence their writing and make it different than how you would have done it personally? Do you understand if an author only wants input from a specific demographic relating to their story?

If it's for fanfiction or other hobby media, are you holding a free hobby to a professional standard? Are you trying to give criticism because you feel like the author has produced 'subpar job performance' of their fic? Are you viewing their work as a personal intimate outlet or something that must conform with mass media? Are you applying rules and guidelines when the fic is shared for simple sharing sake? Is your criticism worded appropriately and focused on the parts where the author has requested input on rather than a general dismissal and or disapproval?

Have you put yourself in a place where you assumed you have the input needed for the story to evolve better, or have you asked what the author needs and what they're having trouble with? Can you handle having your criticism rejected if the author decides their story doesn't need the change and not take it as a personal offense against your character? Are you crossing that boundary because you think you are doing the author a favor? Are you trying to be helpful, or do you just want to be?

I think sometimes when people hear authors go 'please don't give me unsolicited writing advice or criticism' they automatically chalk it up to 'this author doesn't want ANY constructive feedback on their stuff at all' and not "i already have trusted individuals who will help me with my writing goals and- hey i don't know you like that, please stop acting so overly familiar with me'

[secondbeatsongs]

you will never truly know the effect you have on other people's lives

this is both a blessing and a curse

[purity-in-heart]

Reblog Story: Alone

You told everybody you were gonna go on a hiking trip. You told them you'd be back in a few days. You weren't being entirely truthful. Now, here you are, completely alone in the middle of the woods. Good. That was the plan. Just you... and your heart, already pounding from the trip. There is literally nothing here, no people, no animals, nothing to keep you from feeling and listening to your heart, no presences to keep your voice instinctively suppressed - all the reason to do this for as long as you want- to use the stethoscope you snuck with you. Now that you're alone, there's nothing to stop you from basking in the sound and sensation of your heart however you want.

What will you do...?

[ailithnight]

DPxDC Prompt #13

Danny was born in Gotham and ended up for adoption shortly after. The woman who birthed him listed the father on his birth certificate as The Batman. Everyone laughed it off as a joke from a woman who didn't know or didn't want admit who the father was. They left it be, but no one really thought it was true. It couldn't be. Right?

[laurentidal]

This is very much My Shit™

The back and forth, the attempted coup, the dancing flame. Three for three on favorites!!

"...watch the flame dance in the wind...dance mindlessly in the wind..."

Dr. Fielding had her share of toys on campus, but none compared to Madison Wells. For years Madison had tried to be good, tried to do everything the right way. No doubt some golden rule bullshit hammered into her head since first grade.

Consciously, Madison talked around it. But even before she put Madison under, Dr. Fielding could see through her diplomatic vagueries to what she really wanted. Once she was in Madison's mind, Dr. Fielding barely had to work to pull out the unfiltered, candid truth of it all.

"What do you want, Madison?"

Through deep, heavy breaths, Madison spoke slowly. "Power."

"Power takes many forms, Madison. Wealth? Fame?"

"No," Madison shook her head. Her brow scrunching above her closed eyes as she fought through the fog of her mind to conceptualize it. "Raw..." she whispered. Her voice, a moment ago distant and dreamy, was picking up in tone and for a moment Dr. Fielding thought that Madison was coming back to reality. "Consuming...inevitable...power. Like yours."

Dr. Fielding nodded with a proud smile. She would build from here.

"...let yourself dance with the flame...feel the wind on your skin and submit to the forces around you..."

Over the next year Madison grew into everything Dr. Fielding had imagined she could be. She started with teaching Madison the fundamentals of hypnosis, encouraged her to practice on friends and roommates. Once Madison had the fundamentals down, they moved into conditioning and programming. Dr. Fielding didn't just teach Madison a party trick. She taught her how to shape minds and remake people into her own image.

And as their training evolved, so too did their relationship. Madison grew a tolerance to her triggers and Dr. Fielding had to install more sophisticated measures to keep her under control. That was all part of the game, of course. How long could she keep Madison on a leash? When would Madison wake up and take what she knew was rightfully hers?

Madison's defiance grew over time, and with each lesson she came closer to breaking free. But, inevitably...

Snap!

"I obey, Mistress."

Snap!

"I am powerless, Mistress."

Snap!

"My will is yours, Mistress."

For Madison it was like pushing a boulder up a hill. All that effort just to land back on her knees. She knew that she'd never escape from Dr. Fielding. The only way forward was to beat her. To fucking dominate her.

"...submit to my power..."

Sylvia teetered in her chair as she took in the full power of Madison's voice. They were in a public place surrounded by chatter, but all she could hear was her protege and the soft promise of surrender.

She was falling, falling deep into that place that she'd sent so many of her students before. And she couldn't believe that it was happening to her.

It had been years since Sylvia Fielding had last been hypnotized. She'd undergone rigorous training to protect her mind. Sometimes she truly believed that she was impervious now, that it would take some kind of entity far greater than a mere human to put her back under. But somehow, through sheer spite and force of will, Madison was doing it with just her voice and a lit candle.

By then Madison had tried so many different ways to break Dr. Fielding that the proposition over lunch had felt silly.

"Look at the flame," Madison said, nodding toward the candle between them. "Isn't there something hypnotic about it?"

"Stop," Dr. Fielding had laughed. "This is beneath you."

"Maybe," Madison said. "But if you can't fall for a basic flame induction, then what's the harm in playing along?"

Successful or not, Madison was good. She knew how to play people even before hypnotizing them. And now here Sylvia was, swaying in her seat like a flame on a wick, her eyes rolling back as she struggled to grip onto her consciousness. A feeling she hadn't felt in almost twenty years. A desire to submit.

"Madison..." Sylvia whispered.

"Don't speak," Madison interrupted. She was on a roll with this and she wasn't going to give up any ground this time. "Just surrender to my will."

Dr. Fielding blinked, she squared her shoulders, raised her hand and between slowing breaths she finally managed to say with a snap! "Stop."

Madison slumped over the table, her cocky smile evaporating and confident tone shaking.

"I hear you, Mistress."

Dr. Fielding reached over the table to pinch out the candle, then wiped the drool from her chin with a cocktail napkin.

"Enough now," she said through shallow breaths. She gripped the edge of the table trying to maintain composure. She could feel herself soaking through. Goddamn, this one was special.

"That was very good," Dr. Fielding breathed. "But you made one mistake. Do you know what it was?"

Madison didn't hesitate. Meekly she replied, "I exist to serve and obey. My will could never overcome yours, my Mistress."

Dr. Fielding smiled. Perhaps Madison didn't deserve to know how close she'd come. How well she had orchestrated everything, from the appeal to Dr. Fielding's own pride, to using the sensations of the world around them to pull her deeper under. But Madison had made one mistake, and it wasn't that Dr. Fielding had some all consuming will. The purpose of her research was to prove the Submission Principle. Nobody was immune to it, not even Dr. Sylvia Fielding.

Madison had rushed through the back half of the induction. Once she saw Dr. Fielding slipping under, she jumped. Shifting from the image of the candlelight in the wind to "surrender to my will," with nothing in between to reinforce the idea of submission. It was an amateur mistake, but one that she knew Madison would correct.

Not today, Dr. Fielding thought. But maybe someday soon.

[historicity-was-already-taken]

To any Palestinian folks who have sent me requests for aid: I’m so sorry—there are active scammers going around posing as folks in Gaza, and I don’t know how to figure out which ones are real and which ones are scams.

En lieu of those. I’d like to direct you all towards NGOs which I know are not scams

[kathaynesart]

REPLICA'S PATREON IS FINALLY HERE!

You’ve asked for it and now that I am back I can finally put some wonderful treats up on my brand new Patreon including a sneak peek to the next Replica update, some sketches, and Part 1 of a short story focused on Replica Donnie:

"The Road to Hell is Paved with Good Data"

It centers around Donnie's journey towards becoming the powerhouse we know in Replica as well as the drastic steps he takes in the early months of the Krang invasion to achieve his lofty goals.

NOTE: I highly recommend signing up on a browser or desktop (not on an iPhone) due to extra fees that were recently applied.

2ND NOTE: while some things such as the Replica page WIP will eventually make their way onto my Tumblr, the sketches and these short stories will stay exclusive to Patreon for the time being. This is because most of the content on my Patreon will be focusing on sensitive themes of war, a deeper look into the characters, and maybe even a bit of romance. All things I doubt would have been touched on in the Rise canon. So think of it as just extra fluff for readers who want more secret lore from this universe. If any of these themes DO interest you then please consider checking it out HERE! (I might bring it onto Kofi, in the future if people have trouble accessing it.)

[slyandthefamilybook]

okay because I'm seeing some misinfo, here's the story on the Key Bridge collapse

What was the Key Bridge?

The Francis Scott Key Bridge (also called the Key Bridge, the Beltway Bridge, and the Outer Harbor Crossing) was steel-arch continuous-through-truss bridge spanning the Patapsco River south of the Baltimore Harbor. The bridge took 5 years to build and cost an estimated $145 million ($735 million in today's dollars). The full bridge project (including approaches) was 10.9 miles long, but the stretch over the Patapsco was 1.6 miles long and 4 lanes wide, and comprised a length of I-695, the Baltimore Beltway. It traveled between Hawkins Point and Dundalk, and in addition to the I-895 Harbor Tunnel was the primary way for Marylanders to cross from the Eastern Shore to the West. The bridge carried an estimated 11.5 million vehicles per year. There is a lane for ships to pass under the Key Bridge with enough clearance.

Was it structurally sound?

The bridge received its latest inspection in 2022 and received a 6/9 score, which is considered "fair" by federal standards. There was a concern with one of its columns, which was downgraded from a health index of 77.8 to 65.9, but it is not clear yet if this was one of the columns struck by the ship. In 1980 the bridge was struck by a different cargo ship which destroyed a concrete support structure, but the bridge itself was unharmed. There is as of yet no evidence that the bridge collapsed because of poor condition. Experts say the lesson to be learned is about the size and weight of modern cargo ships, and that the bridge was not to blame. Engineers have noted, however, that the bridge's piers lacked protective devices such as fenders.

What was the ship?

The MV Dali is a container ship flying the Singapore flag. It is owned by Grace Ocean Private Ltd. and operated by Synergy Marine Group Ltd. The ship is currently being chartered by Maersk, a Dutch shipping company. It was built in 2015 by Hyundai. The ship is 980 feet long and 157 feet wide. The ship's gross tonnage (its internal volume) is 95,128 tons (190,256,000 pounds). Its deadweight (the weight of cargo it can carry) is 116,851 tons (233,702,000 pounds). The ship was carrying 3,000 containers. The engine is a MAN-B&W 9S90ME putting out 41,480 kilowatts (55,626 horsepower).

Over its lifetime the Dali has been inspected 27 times, and only 2 faults were ever found. On June 27, 2023 the Dali was held in port in Chile due to an issue with the propulsion system. According to an inspector the pressure gauges on the heating system were "unreadable". The fault was fixed before the ship left port.

The Dali is crewed by 22 Indian nationals including 2 maritime pilots.

What happened?

The Dali arrived at the Port of Baltimore on March 23, 2024. At 12:44 AM on March 26, 2024 the Dali left port, beginning its journey to Colombo, Sri Lanka. At 01:26 AM the ship suffered a "complete blackout" and began to drift out of the shipping lane. It is not yet known what caused the electrical failure. The backup generator did not power the propulsion system. At around 01:26 AM the crew of the Dali sent a mayday distress call to the Maryland Department of Transportation (MDOT) informing them of the loss of power and that a collision with the Key Bridge was possible. The anchors were dropped as an emergency measure to attempt to slow or stop the vessel. At the request of one of the pilots traffic flow over the bridge was immediately halted. Black smoke was seen coming from the Dali, which experts believe was the result of the crew managing to restart the power system to regain some maneuvering capability.

At 01:28 AM the Dali, traveling at 8 knots (considered to be a fast speed) collided with a support strut beneath the Key Bridge's metal truss at the southwest end of the bridge. A Baltimore resident said he heard the collision and that it "felt like an earthquake". Emergency teams began receiving 911 calls at 01:30 AM, and the Baltimore Police Department were alerted at 01:35 AM. One of the officers present radioed that he was going to go onto the bridge to alert the construction crew as soon as a second officer arrived, but the bridge collapsed seconds later.

What was the damage?

The Key Bridge has completely collapsed. The metal truss relies on structural tension from the bridge itself to maintain its rigidity. As soon as one of the support columns was destroyed, the rest of the bridge quickly followed.

The damage to the Dali is reported as minimal. The ship was impaled by the bridge's structure above the waterline, but has maintained watertight integrity. The crew has not reported any water contamination from its 1.8 million gallons of marine fuel. 13 containers carrying potentially hazardous material were damaged, and are being inspected by a team of Coast Guard divers. At least 5 vehicles including 3 passenger cars and a cement mixer were detected underwater, but authorities do not believe they were occupied

Who was hurt?

The crew of the Dali reports no casualties, except one crewmember who was hospitalized for minor injuries. There was a crew of 8 construction workers on the Key Bridge filling in potholes. 2 were immediately pulled from the water by rescue crews, with 1 being rushed to emergency care and the other reporting minor injuries and refusing treatment. The hospitalized worker has since been discharged. 1 of those rescued was Mexican. The remaining 6 remain missing. Of those 6, 2 have been identified:

Miguel Luna from El Salvador

Maynor Yassir Suazo Sandoval from Honduras

Of the remaining 4, 2 are Guatemalan nationals. Neither have been identified, but the Guatemalan Foreign Affairs Ministry has stated that they were a 26-year-old from San Luis, Petén, and a 35-year-old from Camotán, Chiquimula. The other 2 are presumed to be Mexican.

Rescue Efforts

The Coast Guard was immediately deployed for search-and-rescue operations. Military Blackhawk helicopters were seen over the river. Rescue efforts were ended at 07:30 PM on March 26, 2024 due to darkness, fog, and cold temperatures. Rear Admiral Shannon Gilreath said "Based on the length of time that we've gone in the search, the extensive search efforts that we put into it, the water temperature -- at this point, we do not believe that we're going to find any of these individuals still alive". Recovery operations resumed at 07:30 AM on March 27, 2024 with all 6 workers presumed dead.

No divers have yet entered the water underneath the bridge. Supervisory Special Agent Brian Hudson of the FBI's Underwater Search and Evidence Response Team said "the debris field is pretty sizable and I know that’s why they’re hesitant to send divers down because some of the debris is still shifting, the heavy weight of the rocks". The FBI has deployed Remotely Operated Vehicles (ROVs) equipped with cameras and SONAR.

Aftermath

At 05:08 AM on March 26, 2024 Transportation Secretary Pete Buttegiege posted on X (formerly Twitter):

"I’ve spoken with Gov. Moore and Mayor Scott to offer USDOT’s support following the vessel strike and collapse of the Francis Scott Key bridge. Rescue efforts remain underway and drivers in the Baltimore area should follow local responder guidance on detours and response."

At 07:30 AM on March 27, 2024 President of the Maryland State Senate Bill Ferguson posted on X (formerly Twitter):

"Over 15,000 in the Balt region rely on daily operations at Port of Baltimore to put food on the table. Today, with Del. @LukeClippinger and colleagues representing Port, we are drafting an emergency bill to provide for income replacement for workers impacted by this travesty."

At around 09:40 AM on March 26, 2024 Maryland Governor Wes Moore and Baltimore Mayor Brandon Scott declared a State of Emergency to take effect at 10:30 AM March 26, 2024, and to last 30 days. Baltimore's Emergency Operations Plan was put into effect.

More than 1,000 personnel from the US Army Corps of Engineers (USACE) have been deployed to assist with clearing the debris and rebuilding efforts. President Joe Biden has pledged that the federal government will pay for the entire reconstruction of the bridge.

Jennifer Homendy, the chair of the National Transportation Safety Board (NTSB) has recovered the Dali's data recorder, and will be inspecting both the Key Bridge and the Dali to determine the cause of the crash and the collapse. She says the investigation could take up to 2 years to complete.

Was it intentional?

According to William DelBagno, head of the FBI's Baltimore field office: "There is no specific or credible information to suggest there are ties to terrorism in this incident".

Secretary of Homeland Security Alejandro Mayorkas said: "There are no indications this was an intentional act".

At least 3 people have been killed in accidents related to ships operated by Synergy in the past 6 years. In 2018 a person on board a Synergy ship in Australia was killed in an accident relating to the vessel's personnel elevator. In 2019 an officer aboard a Synergy vessel in Singapore fell overboard while performing maintenance. In 2023 at least one sailor was killed when a Synergy ship collided with a dredging ship in the Philippines. In the first two cases safety inspectors noted that proper safety procedures had not been adhered to.

Sources

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

[milktea-grn]

young ford² and stanley 🌧

[golyadkin]

I cannot express enough that if your reaction, as a hobby artist, to not getting that many notes on your art is to say "maybe I should just stop doing art altogether" you need to stop posting art to tumblr

not necessarily forever, not even for long, but just stop putting your art on here and start doing it for you again, remember why you enjoyed doing art in the first place and stop relying on the attention of faceless people on the internet for your enjoyment of your hard work

believe me, I get it, nothing crushes the artistic soul quite like labouring for hours on a piece only for it to get like 10 notes, so you need to find your own source of joy in the act of creation and a lot of the time that means making art and not showing it to anybody

[gaddaboutgriffon]

DPxDC #3 A Tale of Two Jacks.

What if Jack Fenton and Jack Drake were alternate universe versions of each other?

Things diverged a few generations back when the nightingales stayed true to their Monster hunter roots in the DP universe, but in the DC universe took the treasure from monsters lairs to build the family fortune and branch out into other businesses. And the last name changed to Drake a few generations before the other universe changed to Fenton. Also all the really powerful magical artifacts and weapons were hidden away in a secret basement Jack didn’t get around to showing Tim before he died.

Oh and I guess this sort of makes Tim and Danny counterparts. Though not quite as the Jacks each married a different woman. So half brothers, if you squint? Eh whatever.

Anyway this was inspired by @dcxdpdabbles prompt. https://www.tumblr.com/gaddaboutgriffon/756909205456388096/wait-isnt-tims-dad-also-named-jack-of-we-could

Where a Deaged to about 5ish years old Danny gets sent to Tim drake to take care of until it is safe for him to return to his home universe. This leads to a misunderstanding that Danny is Tim’s baby half brother. The DNA test would support it if Danny’s dna wasn’t all scrambled by the ghost zone portal.

So how do you guys think this all plays out?