#sir pugilist

[lookslikethatsallthetimewehave]

Laser Lance: This lance was wielded by the mighty warrior Sir Pugilist. When fully charged this lance releases a destructive burst of energy.

Force Shield: This mystical crystal was found in a deep chasm by Bristol the Miner. This magical crystal surrounds the wearer with a protective force shield.

Ice Arrow: This magical weapon was crafted by Rime the Wizard. This icy arrow will strike wherever the holder directs.

[artemlegere]

Homer Reciting his Poems

Artist: Sir Thomas Lawrence (English, 1769–1830)

Date: 1790

Medium: Oil paint on canvas

Collection: Tate Britain, London, United Kingdom

Description

For most of his career, Lawrence featured in the Royal Academy exhibitions as a portrait painter. He became President of the Academy and, like his predecessor Joshua Reynolds, aspired to be a history painter. This early work was exhibited in 1791. It was painted for the connoisseur, Richard Payne Knight, and its subject and style were calculated to suit his classical taste. In a woodland glade, the Greek poet Homer is shown reciting his Iliad to an admiring audience. The nude youth in the foreground was drawn from a famous pugilist (professional boxer) named Jackson.

[timdrakequotes]

Robin: I still think he’ll need backup.

Alfred: It is your detection skills he needs now, Timothy, not your pugilistic talents.

Robin: No faith in me in a fight, huh?

Alfred: Quite the contrary. I know the master respects your martial abilities. But I fear that this particular combat will require more than skill.

Robin: Attitude?

Alfred: Well said, young sir.

--Tim Drake with Alfred Pennyworth (Batman and Wildcat #2 – Violence Squared)

[letrune]

The nobleman and the worker faced each other after the incident. The noble said, pompously:

"I challenge you a duel, sir!" He took off one glove, and dropped the silk on the worker. "Pick your weapon and make your peace, for I have trained under the greatest weapon masters in-"

"Fisticuffs." The worker said.

"...W-what?" The noble stammered.

The worker, who had a rough day at the factory, who had to lift twenty kilo weights today, and who had to punch out a wild horse almost trampling him, rolled up his sleeves and took up the basic pose for all home-trained pugilists.

"Fisticuffs!" he shouted, bouncing on his feet. "Come on, buddy. We both know how this will end."

The nobleman looked uneasily. He was faster, more agile, but this was not a thing he studied a lot.

"I agree, we indeed know. I yield."

"Yea. Guessed so." The worker stopped and sighed. "So. You are sorry?"

"Yes. And you?"

"I am sorry too."

"Let's shake hands, gently!" the nobleman said and the worker, very gently, shook his hands.

"Your gloves, bud. With the duel's off and all that."

“I challenge you to a duel, sir! Pick your weapon and make your peace, for I have trained under the greatest weapon masters in-” “Fisticuffs.” “…W-what?” “FISTICUFFS.”

[yourreddancer]

Anonymous whistleblowers say Trump smells really, really, really bad.

Trump Staffers Say His Terrible Body Odor Is Obstructing His Agenda

The Halfway Cafe

Feb 04, 2025

Let’s remember that it’s widely agreed Trump smells like a dying old man whose Big Mac sauce drowned organs are rotting from the inside out.

Wannabe dictators constantly obsess over their media image because their strongmen personas depend on never admitting to any personal flaw or mistake, so let’s help ol’ Uncle Sam and the Constitution out a bit by reminding America every chance we get that Trump smells like shit.

What an amusing and patriotic way to fight back against Trump’s pugilistic egomania of sociopathic narcissism as he tries to dismantle our democracy and make himself a totalitarian!

Donald Trump just claimed his body odor “is protected by presidential immunity.”

Leaked private texts from JD Vance reveal him complaining about sitting too close to Trump during meetings because of Trump’s “sauerkraut stench.”

Trump claims the rumors about him smelling bad are both “fake news” and classified, and the leakers should be shot.

A Secret Service agent just confirmed that Trump’s codename is “Roast Beef” because agents have to spend so much time in close proximity to his body’s “foul deli odor.”

Dozens of the attendees crammed in the Capitol Rotunda for Trump’s inauguration speech described Trump’s stench as “nearly unbearable” and “reminiscent of expired roast beef.”

Trump was reportedly asked tonight to sign his signature on used diapers by several trolling Gen Z teens at Mar-a-Lago tonight.

Mar-a-Lago employees say over 20,000 diapers have been mailed to Trump’s resort since #TrumpSmells started trending regularly on Twitter last year.

Trump adviser Kellyanne Conway claims Trump just has “alternative scents.”

The DNC is now selling hats, shirts, cologne, deodorant, and perfume products with the label “Make Presidents Smell Nice Again.”

Trump’s non-disclosure agreements going back to the early 90s have included a clause mandating signees can’t mention his “spoiled-roast-beef-esque” body odor.

Trump is “poisoning the air of the country” with his stench.

Trump reportedly hates NATO and wants to pull the US out of the alliance because the prime minister of Belgium told him he needed some deodorant and a mint during a 2017 NATO summit in front of all the other world leaders.

Melania Trump laughed publicly for the first time ever on camera after being asked if her husband smelled bad, and she laughed for 19 seconds straight before she started gasping for air and swearing that she didn’t hear the question.

Trump reportedly smelled so bad during a G7 meeting in 2019 that he made Shinzo Abe and Angela Merkel, who were sitting on either side of him, both vomit.

Trump reportedly smells so bad because he doesn’t like seeing himself naked, and only showers once a week after looking at himself in the mirror and shouting out loud, “Fake news!”

Trump was overheard at Mar-a-Lago today yelling into his phone, “I have presidential immunity to smell however I want!”

Get my comedy right to your inbox! :DSubscribe

During the presidential campaign, Kamala Harris began her answer to every question from media about Trump with the phrase, “Well, that depends.”

Trump’s vile body odor reportedly made it tough for him to hire some cabinet positions, and Trump was turned down by several Attorney General possibilities until Matt Gaetz and then Pam Bondi, who were used to Trump’s stench, agreed.

Trump has reportedly directed Elon Musk to fire any government employees who have ever posted online that Trump smells like expired roast beef.

Trump reportedly has no personal staffers left at the White House residence because they all quit citing his stench as being “much worse now than the first term.”

Trump interrupted a 50th wedding anniversary party at Mar-a-Lago to claim the generals come up to him with tears in their eyes and say, “Sir, you were the best smelling president of all time.”

Trump just installed a chimpanzee exhibit at Mar-a-Lago so he can blame the stench on the apes.

One potential juror in Trump’s New York trial was dismissed after she explained to the judge that she had hypersomia, an unusually heightened sense of smell, and Trump’s well-documented stench was wafting over from the defense table making it difficult for her to focus.

RFK Jr. accidentally said on a hot mic that Trump smells worse than the bear cub carcass he found on the side of the road back in 2014.

While Trump was walking in his inauguration parade, witnesses say they could see Trump’s infamous stench smoking off his body and not just smell it. 🥃

Help me grow my comedy, share me! :D

[aitze]

Hi! My name is Alice, or Lancelot. My pronouns are she and they. I am an artist from the Netherlands. This is my blog specifically for art. I mostly draw ttrpg characters, but also, occasionally, other things. Tags:

Types:

Characters

Portraits

Icons

Has background

Commissions

Fanart

Tokens

Isometric

Self Portraits

Sketches

Group Shot

TTRPG Art

Games:

Dungeons and Dragons 5th Edition

Monster of the Week

Masks: A New Generation

Apocalypse Keys

Songs for the Dusk

Blades in the Dark

Glitterhearts

Starforged

Beam Saber

Shadowrun

ROOT RPG

LARP

Campaigns:

Eberith (5e)

Tiriande (5e, I'm the GM)

The Big Team (Masks West Marches)

Draconia (5e)

Curse of Strahd (5e)

Wild Beyond the Witchlight (5e)

EXU (5e)

Dice Disasters (5e AP)

Tranquility (5e pbp)

Characters:

Sister Amiriel, moon elf assassin (5e)

Celestrasza of Draconia, revenant dragoon (5e)

Lorelai Lesrektia, cursed prince (5e)

Meridia Venator, dhampir cleric (5e)

Nemesis, medusa paladin (5e)

Nemesis, amalgam cultist (BITD)

Remnant, amnesiac programmer (Starforged)

Theophania, occultist mech pilot (Beam Saber)

Viscera, hexblood sorcerer (5e)

Brandy Alexander, elfsimar paladin (5e)

Angraxaethe Sevsarstra, dragon nova (Masks)

Blossom, human wedlock (5e)

Iphigneia, eladrin pugilist (5e)

Sir Lancelot, fey construct knight (Masks)

Alstroemeria sin Filan, elfsimar barbarian (5e)

Divine Gate of the Radiant East, aasimar sorcerer (5e)

Lieveling, drummer (Persona game)

Bring me Misery, tiefling phd student (5e)

Pashmina, legacy (Masks)

Whither Willow, firbolg huntress (5e)

Muriel, mad priestess (larp)

Safia, convert paladin (larp)

Petal, magical girl necromancer (Glitterhearts)

Tarugiel, angel (Monster of the Week)

Turtle, cat knight (ROOT RPG)

Jasmin, isekai druid (5e)

Kassandra Glaive, dhampir vampire hunter (5e)

Heresy, risen demon (Apocalypse Keys)

Grace Judgment, brainwashed vampire (5e)

Fennec, conman warlock (5e)

Dr. Marzipan Sweetling, deserter military doctor (Songs for the Dusk)

Charity, maid bodyguard (5e)

Misaurystes, void wizard (5e)

Carmilla / Infrared, catgirl vampire (Masks)

Beans, Transformed gorgon (Masks)

Competitions / Potlucks / Months

Artfight

Secret Satan

Swordtember

Generic Memes

[thatmiqolune]

FFXIV Write 2023 - #1 - Envoy

____________________

Envoy - a messenger or representative, especially one on a diplomatic mission

Spoiler Warnings: None, takes place in 2.0 early game.

Content Warnings: None

Author's Notes: Just a little reflection on the very beginning of the game from a newbie adventurer's point of view.

___________________

Lune had barely been in Gridania a few weeks when he was asked by the Elder Seedseer herself to travel to the other city states on Gridania's behalf. Him, a foreign Miqo'te from outside Eorzea, and suddenly he was thrust into this extremely important ceremony, and now, an envoy for the whole darn region!

The Miqo'te sat in his inn room, the night before he was due to set out for Limsa Lominsa, the pirate capital. He'd never even been on a bloody airship, the idea of travelling by air terrified the greenleaf adventurer. He was far more at home on a ship, or a road, that's for certain.

He reflected on the recent events, since he set foot on Eorzean soil and headed straight for Gridania. He'd been recommended the forest city by a fellow traveller, who had seen the crude spear he carried and recommended him the Lancer's guild to hone his skills. Though all he really seemed to have done so far is pest control and been teased by some stuck up elf about not learning how to use a lance the right way.

Still, it had done good for him. He'd learned how to hold a lance properly, how to put power behind his swings, how to do more than just stab and hope.

And boy, had his new skills been put to use. He was sure he'd been all over the Shroud by now, and inspected every tree, every bush, and fought every foe. He'd certainly made connections far faster than he ever thought he would, from that strange Pugilist and Scholar in the Shroud, to the Elder Seedseer herself!

He wasn't sure when it happened, but he'd finally managed to drift into a deep sleep while reflecting on his time. Before he knew it, there was a knock at the door.

"Mr. Mi'tori, sir. This is your morning wake up call! Your airship leaves in a few hours!"

Lune blinked the sleep from his eyes, orienting himself. Right. Inn room. Airship.

"I'm awake, thanks." He called back, which seemed to satisfy the worker on the other side, as he heard footsteps on wood, fading into the distance.

The Miqo'te yawned, stretched, sat up, and looked at the adventurer's clothes he'd been given by the guild. Something a little more suiting an envoy than fiend gut covered armour, Miounne had said. Guess he couldn't complain, it was certainly more comfortable looking, at least.

He threw on the clothes, and headed out the door.

First, Breakfast, then his first steps into his new life as an Envoy and Adventurer, both.

Little did he know just how much of an adventure that would be.

[eldritchsign]

Whilst Basil is socially adept enough to recognize that his companion's joke was given with neither timing nor grace, he is not so absorbed within his own dignity that he doesn't enjoy it. His age softened cheeks perk into a warm, fatherly smile, and he offers the slightest bit of a chuckle, feigned though the sound may be.

"You know, my father rather enjoyed repeating that. He'd tell my brother and I that only fools and sinners gamble, right before paying a visit to the pugilists."

Another laugh comes from the major, though it shortly fades into the echo of emptiness. Reminiscence brings forth a coalescing mixture of emotions, both warm and cold, bitter and sweet. Darkness begins to outweigh the light, and Basil does not wish to speak of his late family any longer. Instead, he opts to answer the vicar's question.

"There may have been isolated settlements here and there, but nothing significant until the Roman's founded the city. It wasn't quite London, at least as we know her, but it was certainly the progenitor. So I suppose you may be right, sir. These chambers may not have been inspired by the Romans, but built by bastards themselves."

To a man born and raised in the north—not Scotland, but as near as one can go while still remaining on the English side of Hadrian's Wall— London is still new. He’s also still new to the preternatural. Less naive now, but he doesn’t have the natural sense tuned with perfect accuracy yet. Architecture though, that is a subject he has a narrow sliver of expertise in. “Well, there is Romanesque style… but this doesn’t look merely inspired by the Romans.”

As the major readjusts his torch, Mr. Hughes leans in closer to examine the writing carved into the wall. A frown creeps in, joining curiosity. “Oh, that’s not Latin. Or indeed any language I’m familiar with.” He doesn’t intend to boast, but clerics do study both Greek and Hebrew, at least enough to recognize the letters.

Then in a misplaced attempt to lighten the mood, he adds, “Some say that betting is a sin, you know. Oh, don't worry- not me!” He probably ought to, too, but he can’t bring himself to think that the very human act of guessing the future would cause the Lord to disown His creatures. Then again, the apple seemed small, too.

“What was here before London? I’m afraid my specialty is shorebirds… and fungi.” That second revelation makes him take another look at the walls. “These are nothing like anything I’ve seen before,” he says, trying to contain his excitement to a reasonable level.

[mariana-oconnor]

Silver Blaze pt 3

So, the last part buried my dreams of Silver Blaze cantering gaily across the moor, enjoying his new life of freedom and pony companions, apparently he is in the other stable (and hopefully being treated well by the guy in charge if only because he's worth something). But what really happened that night.

Also the curious incident of the dog in the nighttime is in this part, I believe.

Also, apparently the curious incidents of the sheep in the field:

“Have you noticed anything amiss with them of late?” “Well, sir, not of much account; but three of them have gone lame, sir.”

If someone has been practising how to lame a horse by laming sheep they are going in the special prison for animal cruelty.

Someone's been practising making animals lame on the sheep, haven't they?

Either that or there's a mysterious livestock-laming illness going around. What does foot and mouth do? (Apparently does make animals lame, but also has several other unpleasant symptoms, so they probably would have noticed that.)

But if Silver Blaze was ill, then having the horse 'stolen' so it couldn't run would probably be a better way of getting insurance money. Maybe. Surely he'd be insured against illness as well, though maybe not for as much? I know nothing about animal insurance, or race horses.

Colonel Ross still wore an expression which showed the poor opinion which he had formed of my companion's ability...

Colonel Ross is still being a dick, I see. Consistent characterisation there, I commend you. It does seem to be his one distinguishing feature. The parade of unpleasant colonels continues.

That was quite fun to say.

“To the curious incident of the dog in the night-time.” “The dog did nothing in the night-time.” “That was the curious incident,” remarked Sherlock Holmes.

The Colonel was very angry. “I have been on the turf for twenty years, and never was asked such a question as that before,” said he. “A child would know Silver Blaze, with his white forehead and his mottled off-foreleg.”

...because there's absolutely no way to cover up those sorts of markings. At all... Nope. Impossible.

Oh, Mr Heath Newton... don't give your horse a racist name. Dude. Don't make the animal an accessory to your bigotry. I was all ready to like you for being the only person without a title, but nope. And there's another colonel in the running, are there really no other army ranks available? How many colonels does the British army have in the 1890s that they can just run around murdering and being murdered with such abandon?

(Colonel Wardlaw has neither murdered nor been murdered as far as I'm aware. Currently his only crime is calling a horse 'Pugilist' which is just a bad name, but at least it's not racist 😃👍. Colonel Ross has also not currently murdered anyone either, but I get the impression he kind of wants to murder Holmes.)

“That's not my horse,” cried the owner. “That beast has not a white hair upon its body. What is this that you have done, Mr. Holmes?”

He's not the sharpest knife in the drawer, this one, huh?

“You have only to wash his face and his leg in spirits of wine, and you will find that he is the same old Silver Blaze as ever.” “You take my breath away!”

This is the part I knew, I confess. I think there must be an Enid Blyton book with the same plot, because I remember it being a black horse with the markings covered with shoe polish, but same difference. I'm having fun judging Col. Ross for not realising this sooner, but honestly it's probably not his fault. Although it does seem logical that if someone steals a famous horse, they'd try to hide any well-known markings it has.

Of course, these days horses are microchipped, but Leverage already worked out how to get around that.

“My dear sir, you have done wonders. The horse looks very fit and well. It never went better in its life. I owe you a thousand apologies for having doubted your ability. You have done me a great service by recovering my horse. You would do me a greater still if you could lay your hands on the murderer of John Straker.”

Oh wow, an actual apology. Maybe not all colonels are bad...

The Colonel flushed angrily. “I quite recognize that I am under obligations to you, Mr. Holmes,” said he, “but I must regard what you have just said as either a very bad joke or an insult.”

Now Holmes is just having fun with him. This plus the 'it was the horse!' followed by 'but I have a bet on, so you'll have to wait' is just plain vindictive. Clearly the colonel's apology wasn't quite enough to absolve him of all punishment in Holmes' eyes.

"...the immense significance of the curried mutton occurred to me..."

Not quite as catchy, but it could totally be a sequel.

"Powdered opium is by no means tasteless. The flavor is not disagreeable, but it is perceptible."

I did wonder about this, but I don't know enough about powdered opium to comment. So the immense significance of the curried mutton was that it was spicy?

And the curious incident of the dog in the night-time is that it did not bark when someone stole the horse. Meaning it must have been an inside job, but Ned was apparently not involved. His drugging was honest.

"There have been cases before now where trainers have made sure of great sums of money by laying against their own horses, through agents, and then preventing them from winning by fraud."

The classic betting fraud scam, which is why insider betting is illegal. Not an insurance scam. Those are pretty much the only reasons to steal a racehorse, right? Well, I guess maybe you just want a racehorse... Always possible.

"You must know, with your wide experience of turf matters, Colonel Ross, that it is possible to make a slight nick upon the tendons of a horse's ham, and to do it subcutaneously, so as to leave absolutely no trace."

Well Straker was a total dick. He really did practise on those sheep, huh? Poor animals. They're the real victims in all of this.

"...Straker was leading a double life, and keeping a second establishment. The nature of the bill showed that there was a lady in the case, and one who had expensive tastes."

So he hurt animals, tried to fix races, and was an adulterer. Just a gem of a human being. And he drugged that one guy, which is pretty horrible, too.

“Ah, it bolted, and was cared for by one of your neighbors. We must have an amnesty in that direction, I think. This is Clapham Junction, if I am not mistaken, and we shall be in Victoria in less than ten minutes."

Who just happened to cover up the markings in such a way as to make the horse unrecognisable to you, but that's nbd. What's this? Almost our stop?

Like the colonel can't put together those pieces of information. He has pretty much 1 neighbour who happens to have a stable. It doesn't take a genius to put two and two together on that one.

I suppose you could call the travellers 'neighbours', but that seems unlikely.

The colonel was not a criminal, but he was kind of unlikeable, so he's going down in the tally of unpleasant colonels, if anyone's keeping track. Did ACD have a bad experience with a colonel? This is turning into a pattern.

Next up: The Beryl Coronet, which I remember the name of, but nothing about. In my head it just links back to The Blue Carbuncle, probably because they're both jewels and they have the same initials.

[pretendingday]

"I was quick to want the world rid of its fools an hour ago, I forget sometimes how much an exemplar I am among them." "That’s not how I see you."

A fanmix about James Fitzjames and Francis Crozier from AMC’s The Terror. Chronological and mostly canon compliant.

Listen on Spotify

Keep reading for songs and motivations.

1. All The Old Showstoppers - The New Pornographers

"When John he saw the numbers he lied, made up the whole thing, failed when he tried" This song is about responsibility, good intentions, and failure. It feels like a good place to start. Also, (Sir) John sure did fail when he tried.

2. Get Famous - The Mountain Goats

"You’ve been waiting for this, ever since you’ve been young, be careful not to choke on your tongue" This song will always be JFJ's theme song to me. The tone of it also fits in with the "tell us about bird shit island, why don't you, James" energy.

3. French Exit - The Antlers

"I’m not a puppy you take home, don’t bother trying to fix my heart" Now, this one is about fighting. It's about the "there hasn't been a single meal we've shared, a single conversation, when you weren't morbing on about what you're due." It's about the "keep your pity."

4. Victorian Ice - Sea Power

"And you better keep moving before you get totally cold" They're victorians, on ice. That's all the motivation you need. Also the song is about communication issues and needing each other, so... I rest my case.

5. Not Dead Yet - Lord Huron

"You’re tired of me, I’m tired of you" This song is about self-hatred and alcoholism. But it's also about not being dead yet, so there's... hope? Maybe?

6. The Counterfeiter - Crooked Fingers

"You don’t belong here, your heart’s a fake, the ghosts who chose you were mistaken" James has imposter syndrome, part one.

7. Someone You’d Admire - Fleet Foxes

"One of them wants only to be someone you’d admire, one would as soon just throw you on the fire" Sometimes it's hard to change, and even harder to know whether you want to impress someone, or still hate their guts. I feel like this goes for both of them.

8. Straight and Tall - Iron & Wine

"Don’t tell me all the shit you’ve done, how you push your luck with everyone, ‘cause your mean upbringing’s left you a mess" James has imposter syndrome, part two, but this time Francis goes "that's not how I see you".

9. Your Rocky Spine - Great Lake Swimmers

"I was moving across your frozen veneer, the sky was dark but you were clear" Listen, it's about the metaphors. I can't explain it to you, it's just the vibes.

10. I’ll Be Your Girl - The Decemberists

"I could be your man, but I’d be that much more" It's gender time. Reading way too much into the dress scene is something that can be so personal.

11. After Those Who Mean It - Laura Stevenson

"It’s as if you knew me, and even though it’s briefly, and though it’s not completely, I can feel you reading, reading me to sleep" This song is about persevering, even though you know it's all coming to an end. It's sad hours, and I'm afraid it's all downhill from here.

12. Colder Heavens - Blanco White

"Here I stand undressed, here I confess my doubt, did you know that I would?" The mortifying ordeal of being known, and also being hunted by a monster bear, and also there's a mutiny. That's not what the song is actually about, but it has the vibes.

13. Lucky Man - Emerson, Lake & Palmer

"He went to fight wars for his country and king, of his honour and his glory the people would sing" Something something "there will be poems". This song is the poem.

14. I Will - Mitski

"And while you sleep I’ll be scared, so by the time you wake I’ll be brave" I feel like I don't have to explain myself with this one, but I do have tissues if you need them. I did warn you it's sad hours.

15. The Pugilist - Keaton Henson

"But the truth is I need you to tell me I’m worthy of all this great living that I’ve been doing" James has imposter syndrome, part three, but now he's also dying.

16. Artifact #1 - Conor Oberst

"The world is full of missing persons, all of these unsolved mysteries" James is still dying. Francis is feeling... not great about it.

17. Genesis 30:3 - The Mountain Goats

"I will do what you ask me to do, because of how I feel about you" This is the song that made me start this fanmix. Imagine someone you love asking you to kill them. Imagine being unable to deny them anything. Remember when I said you could have my tissues? I take it back, I need them myself now, thanks.

18. Another New World - Josh Ritter

"I won’t call it rescue what brought me here back to the old world to drink and decline, and to pretend that the search for another new world was well worth the burning of mine" This song is about an arctic explorer surviving, but at much too great a cost. Perfect theme song for Final Girl Francis. It's also extremely long, so you have time to get all those tears out before moving on with your life. Thank you for listening.

[zoetaylcrs]

Bully | Chapter II

Well Jimmy, word on the street is you're something of a pugilist. No sir, I've never pugilized in my life.

[pizzaboat]

Principle Bump: Word on the street is that you're something of a pugilist

Young Eda: No sir, I've never pugilised in my life

[silent-era-of-cinema]

Reginald Leigh Dugmore (20 November 1891 – 16 June 1967), better known as Reginald Denny, achieved success both as an English stage, film and television actor, and as an aviator and UAV pioneer. He was also once amateur boxing champion of Great Britain.

Born as Reginald Leigh Dugmore on 20 November 1891 in Richmond, Surrey, England, he came from a theatrical family; his father was actor and opera singer W.H. Denny. In 1899, Master Reginald Denny began his stage career in A Royal Family and starred in several London productions from age seven to twelve. At sixteen, he ran away from a boarding school and trained as a pugilist with Sir Harry Preston at the National Sporting Club; he also appeared in several British stage productions touring the music halls of England of The Merry Widow. In 1911, he went to the United States to appear in Henry B. Harris's stage production of The Quaker Girl, then joined the Bandmann Opera Company as a baritone touring India and the Far East India where he performed for Krishna Raja Wadiyar IV.

Although he worked in "flickers" during 1911 and 1912, Reginald officially began his film career in 1915 with the World Film Company and made films both in the United States and Britain until the 1960s. Among the numerous stage productions in which he starred, Reginald appeared in John Barrymore's 1920 Broadway production of Richard III; the two actors became friends and starred in several films together including Sherlock Holmes (1922), Hamlet (1933), Romeo and Juliet (1936), and Paramount's Bulldog Drummond series (1937-1938).

Denny was a well-known actor in silent films, and with the advent of talkies he became a character actor. He played the lead role in a number of his earlier films, generally as a comedic Englishman in such works as Private Lives (1931) and later had reasonably steady work as a supporting actor in dozens of films, including The Little Minister (1934) with Katharine Hepburn, Anna Karenina (1935) with Greta Garbo, Alfred Hitchcock's Rebecca (1940) and the Frank Sinatra crime caper film Assault on a Queen (1966). He made frequent appearances in television during the 1950s and 1960s. His last role was in Batman (1966) as Commodore Schmidlapp. In 2020, Kino Lorber released 4K restorations on DVD and Blu-ray of three of Denny's silent comedies: The Reckless Age, Skinner’s Dress Suit, and What Happened to Jones? in The Reginald Denny Collection.

Denny served as an observer/gunner in the First World War in the new wartime Royal Air Force.

In the 1920s he performed as a stunt pilot with the 13 Black Cats and loaned his WWI Sopwith Snipe biplane to Howard Hughes for use in Hell's Angels (1927). In the early 1930s, Denny became interested in free-flight model airplanes. In 1934, he and oil tycoon Max Whittier's son, Paul Whittier, formed Reginald Denny Industries and opened a model plane shop, which became a chain known as the Reginald Denny Hobby Shop, now California Hobby Distributors.

He designed his "Dennyplane" with its signature model engine "Dennymite," developed by engineer Walter Righter, in addition to the "Denny Jr." which child actors would enter in model plane competitions at Mines Field, which later became Los Angeles International Airport. In 1935, Denny began developing his remote controlled "radioplane" for military use. In 1939, he and his partners won the first military United States Army Air Corps contract for their radio-controlled target drone, the Radioplane OQ-2. In July 1940, they formed the Radioplane Company and manufactured nearly fifteen thousand drones for the US Army during the Second World War. The company was purchased by Northrop in 1952.

Denny had a great deal in common with Robert Loraine, an older actor / Airman. They had been in a West End production together in 1902 in London,[5] they were both veterans of the RFC (and its successor, the Royal Air Force) and were both still flying and making films in Hollywood in the 1930s. It is possible that Denny's interest in radio controlled aircraft was influenced by his old RFC colleagues and the British unmanned aircraft developments.

Denny married actress Irene Hilda Haismann on 28 January 1913 in Calcutta, both were with the Bandmann Opera Company. They had one daughter but were divorced in 1928. Denny married actress Isabelle "Betsy Lee" Stiefel in 1928 and they had three children.

Denny died on 16 June 1967 at the age of 75, after suffering a stroke whilst visiting his sister in his home town of Richmond in England. His body was buried at Forest Lawn-Hollywood Hills Cemetery in Los Angeles, California. His wife Isabelle survived him until 1996, living to age 89.

[latveriansnailmail]

Last line(s) tag game

I'm accepting an open invite from @honourablejester to share the last lines written in my WIP...

Man Man followed futilely on foot shaking his fist. “Zapatta, get back here at once and unhand that serpent! I’ve got questions for you! Hey! That serpent is someone’s mama! Hey!” Man Man slowed and slumped. “I need a consult! Call me! There’s… demon… hoo.”

The three heroes reconnoitered at the cabin with Yoga Matt. Man Man tensed his lips and said, “That could have been a little better coordinated.”

“I saw Lady Angst creeping in the shadows, you know, the Pugilist.” This from Johnny Go.

“What was she doing here?” idled Man Man. “Was she with them? And why didn’t you do anything about it?”

“Well she, ah, sucker punched me with her darkness stuff and, um, roughed up my nipples real bad…”

“Matthew,” Man Man redirected, “What’s going on in all of this? Does Mama Free know Zapatta the Mystic?”

“Zapatta ran this community back in the day and trained Mama in the Art. It didn’t end well and he’s not welcome here. This was before my time but I’ve heard all kinds of rumors, bad stuff.”

“Like what?” asked Man Man. “What’s the worst of it?”

Yoga Matt sucked his teeth and frowned. He was good at frowning. “I heard… turn the camera off. Okay. I heard he scarred up her back in a ritual. Or that he tricked her into marrying her long lost brother. Or that he bonded a demon to her.”

“Yeah, that’ll do it. Any clue why Zapatta came for her?” said Man Man, now expecting it to be the bit about the demon.

“They say he trained her to be even better than he is at commanding the elements. He must need to blow up something real bad. But that’s a very bad man! Everyone here knows it! You better know it, too! Sir,” Matt shifted his weight and stuck a couple of fingers in Man Man’s direction, “you need to save our Mama before he makes her fall to his level!”

“You heard the man, gents. We’ve got a job to do.”

Tagging @cake-and-monsters and any other writers who may be hiding in obscurity.

[spacebatisluvd]

Summary: Neither Sea Hawk nor Entrapta know how kidnapping works.

Content warning: Sea Hawk (being a complete drama king), Mermista (being rather aggressive), and some light-hearted ‘bondage’ that is not at all sexual.

-

Hordak walked around the base of the structure, studying the completed building. “Which team was responsible for this?” he asked the supervisor trailing behind him.

“Team Four.”

He nodded. “This is excellent work. They should be commended for their efforts.”

The woman froze. “I...what?”

Hordak glanced at her before resuming his inspection. “They have performed well. That should be acknowledged.” He paused, realizing he could be overstepping. “I know I do not have any authority here. Consider it a suggestion.”

“I...I’ll make a note of that,” she said, sounding unsure of herself.

He nodded, finished with his inspection. “What’s the next—?”

”Hey!”

They both turned, watching Mermista stalk toward them. The woman behind him paled immediately and bowed low. “Princess, it is an—“

Mermista ignored her, jabbing a finger at Hordak. “Where is he?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Sea Hawk—where. is. he?”

Hordak‘s ears folded back. “I was not aware I was meant to be watching him.”

“Funny.”

He crossed his arms. “That was not—“

Mermista stepped close, and in the distance, the ocean crashed. “Don’t play games with me; just tell me what you did and maybe I’ll go easy on you.”

He cocked his head. “I am not ‘playing games’. You are unable to find him?”

She looked him over. “You really don’t...?” Turning away, she swore under her breath and stormed off. 

“Princess?”

“Forget it,” she snapped, never breaking stride. 

Frowning, he turned toward the other woman. “We will continue this later.”

He started to follow Mermista, but the woman said, “Sir?” He turned, and she stepped toward him, eyeing Mermista with caution. “Be careful. The Princess doesn’t like you very much.”

He huffed. “I am aware.” Her gaze darted from him to Mermista, and he sighed. “Your concern is noted. Carry on without me. I will return later.” She said nothing, and he turned away, catching up to Mermista by walking briskly. “The two of you were meant to leave for Plumeria today.” He and Entrapta were not the only ones Perfuma had invited to her Kingdom. “He seemed excited. I do not think he would wander off.”

She glared at him, trying to walk faster, but his long stride made it easy to keep up. Seeing that this tactic wasn’t working, she tried another. “Why do you care?”

“I do not. Where have you looked for him?”  

“I didn’t ask for your help.”

”I did not offer it. Does he have anyone that would want to harm—?“ He huffed, realizing that was a stupid question. “Who has the most cause to harm him?”

“Shut up! Just—shut up!” She rounded on him, hands balled into fists at her sides. Abruptly, she forced herself out of her pugilistic stance, crossing her arms and looking away. “Whatever. He’s Sea Hawk. He’s probably just...setting a ship on fire or something.”

Hordak’s ears folded back. “Why would he do that?”

She threw up her hands and groaned aloud. “I don’t know—because he’s Sea Hawk. Stop pretending you care! I’m not going to fall for it!”

He cocked his head, ears still back. “What?”

“Drop the act—I know you’re just using him.”

Hordak huffed. “Don’t be ridiculous. Sea Hawk is entirely useless.”

“So you expect me to believe you actually like spending time with him?” Water began to leech from the ground, forming small pools around him. He watched the puddles form, then shifted to regard her more warily. “Maybe you can fool Entrapta, but—“

“What?!”

“I said—maybe you can trick Entrapta into thinking you’re her ‘friend’, but you can’t trick me. And I won’t let you hurt her or Sea Hawk, got it?”

He could hear his hearts hammering in his ears, the sound distractingly loud. Everything seemed to slow down. His hands curled, and his breathing felt tight. The nerves along his scalp prickled, and he couldn’t find the words to deny her—he was just too angry to speak.

For once, he was glad to be weaponless; at the moment, he wouldn’t trust himself with one.

Misunderstanding the source of his anger, Mermista sneered. “Oh, yeah. I know exactly what you’re doing. Geek Princess knows tech, but she doesn’t know people. Someone like you was bound to take advantage of that sooner or later. Is that how you got her to switch sides? Playing with her feelings? Making her think you care about her? People like you don’t care about anyone. You only care about yourself, and how to use other people for your own ends.”

“You know nothing,” he finally managed to snap. His claws bit into his palms, and he flexed his fingers open to keep from hurting himself. A not insignificant part of him longed to feel the chill of water wrapping around his torso; it would be a good excuse to fight back, to lash out. He held himself in check, though, remembering the treaty—remembering too that Entrapta would be disappointed in him if he hurt one of her supposed ‘friends’.

“I know you’ve got some kind of plan in mind, and—“

Both of them jumped when Mermista’s communicator started to go off. She did something strange with her hand—first pointing to her face, index and middle fingers spread, then pointing to him. His ears pulled back in annoyance and confusion. Glaring, she pulled up her communicator and turned her back on him in obvious dismissal. He growled softly, even as he resisted the urge to show her why that was a bad idea. Determined to ignore her, he started to walk away, until he heard—“Hi, Mermista! You remember when I asked if I could borrow Hordak for a few days so I could take him to the Flower Festival, right?”

“Entrapta?” he asked, ears pricked.

Mermista glared at him, but answered Entrapta, “Yeah? What of it?”

“I’m no longer asking!” Hordak’s ears twitched. He walked up behind Mermista; his height made it easy for him to peer over her head. Seeing him, Entrapta beamed. “Hi, Hordak! I’m kidnapping you.”

“What?” he and Mermista asked at the same time. They glared at each other. Ears back, Hordak cleared his throat and focused on the communicator. “Entrapta, I....” He huffed. “You cannot kidnap me. That would break the peace treaty and could have serious ramifications for your nation’s alliance with Salineas. They’re an important trade partner. You cannot risk such a thing for what amounts to a short vacation.”

“Oh. Well. That’s gonna make this really awkward....”

As if on queue, Sea Hawk appeared on the screen. He raised a dramatic hand to his forehead. “Oh, woe! Woe is me! I have been captured!” He bent backwards, supported only by a rope of Entrapta’s hair. “Please, my love—you must concede to her demands! Who knows what this villain is capable of...even if she isn’t dressed like one.”

“I think overalls are really an all-purpose outfit.”

He just sighed heavily. “Woe! Woe is me—kidnapped by a villain with no sense of style, which is honestly worse than the kidnapping itself.”

”They can be evil overalls,” she offered helpfully. 

Mermista groaned. “Sea Hawk, I’ve been looking for you all morning. Where are you?”

Hordak cocked his head. “Entrapta, I do not understand.”  

“Oh, it’s really very simple. When Mermista said you couldn’t come to Plumeria with me, Sea Hawk called, and—“

Sea Hawk jumped into action, grabbing hold of the communicator. “She is devious! She lured me into her web, like some sort of devilish spider! I was captured! Caught! Please, my love, you must meet her demands—or else!”

“Oh—right,” Entrapta said. “Absolutely. That is exactly what happened.” She winked, and Hordak pressed his fingertips to his forehead, sighing.

Mermista groaned. “Ugh. You cannot be serious. Please tell me you’re not doing this.”

“I’m afraid this is a matter of deadly seriousness, my love! You must meet us at the docks in half an hour—“

“Oh, make it one hour. So Hordak has time to pack.”

“Right! Of course.” He cleared his throat. “You must meet us at the docks in one hour; who knows what terrors she has in store for me!”

Entrapta waved. “Bye! Remember to pack comfortable clothes.”

He cocked his head, ears back, even as he waved hesitantly. The communicator shut off, and Mermista groaned aloud, the sound long and drawn out. She spun to glare at him. “What did you do?” she snapped.

“I had no part in this farce!”

“Obviously! This has ‘Sea Hawk’ written all over it, but he’s only doing it because he likes you, and I don’t get it! You’re—ugh!” She gestured to him and sneered.

“Entrapta will not harm him.”

“I know that!”

“You misunderstand—I mean that Entrapta will not harm him if you don’t bring me to her.”

“Yeah, and if I don’t, now suddenly I’m the bad guy for ruining his fun.”

His ears folded back, and he cocked his head. “Sea Hawk is very...fond of you. Yet you do not seem particularly fond of him.”

She opened her mouth, then snapped it shut. Her hands clenched closed, then she exhaled slowly and flexed her them open again. “Shut up. What do you know about relationships?”

“I don’t pretend to know anything. It was just an observation.”

“Yeah, well, go observe something else.”

“Happily.”

He rejoined the builders and resumed his work. Mermista could sort out Sea Hawk, and he was confident that Entrapta would seek him out when everything was settled. They could not go to Plumeria together, but she’d said she was amenable to staying with him in Salineas for a while.

A little over an hour later, though, he was drawn from his current project by the sound of shouting. He immediately ran toward the screaming, expecting to find a half-collapsed building or the results of an errant explosion. He did not expect to find Entrapta’s mech from Beast Island running rampant through the construction site, while workers scattered before her like seals before an orca. “What is that?” one of the crew asked, defensively raising a metal pipe despite her shaking hands.

“Stand down,” he said, “That is Bethany, one of Entrapta’s companions. She is not here to harm anyone. Just keep out of her way; I imagine she’s looking for me.”

He started toward her, and one of the workers grabbed his arm—dropping it immediately when he glared at him. “You’re sure it’s safe?”

Hordak’s ears twitched. “I did not say that she was safe.” Bethany could sometimes become overexcited, and she often forgot her own strength. “Remain here, and you will be fine. It’s me she wants.”

He walked away from the group, directing others to keep clear as he approached. As soon as Bethany noticed him, she sprinted in his direction, powerful front legs kicking up dust and dirt. He stood still, watching as she corrected her trajectory by leaping overhead when she realized she was going too fast to stop without colliding with him. He turned to face her as she landed, dust hazing the air. She walked toward him at a more sedate pace and knelt as the dust settled, tilting her head so he could reach up to scratch her ‘ear’. Her engine rumbled as he did, and her  ‘mouth’ fell open, but Entrapta was not inside. His ears folded back. “Bethany, where is Entrap—ta?!”

She snapped him up, enclosing him in her cramped cockpit. He blinked, reorienting himself and twisting into an acceptable position. Comfort would not be possible in such a confined space. He toggled her controls, but her autopilot was engaged and the controls were locked. He could unlock them, if he wanted. Bethany’s design was rather primitive in some ways, and many of her controls could be hacked relatively easily. However, he saw no reason to offend her when he suspected he knew where she was taking him. He settled in to wait out the bumpy trip, not especially surprised when they reached the docks.

Entrapta was waiting for them, a trunk by her side. Bethany came to a sudden stop, jostling him, but she gently lowered her head so he could climb out of the cockpit with some measure of ease. Before his feet even touched the ground, Entrapta’s hair caught him up and pulled him close. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, and her legs wrapped around his hips. Her hair wrapped around everything else. He curled around her just as tightly, burying his face in the side of her neck and holding her close. “Hello, Starlight,” he murmured, her hair coiling around his fingers. “I’ve missed you.”

She nodded and hugged him tighter, sighing in contentment. “I missed you too! It hasn’t even been that long, but...” She pulled back just enough to look at him. “I didn’t know I could miss someone the way I missed you.” She laid a hand on his cheek, and he leaned into her palm, shutting his eyes to savor the touch. Her other hand slid between them, resting on his sternum. “You’re purring.”

His eyes opened, but he didn’t pull away. “It is not a purr. I do not....” He trailed off with a huff. Entrapta was smiling at him; he would not argue if she wanted to call it a purr.

“So, are you ready to go?”

“Go?”

“To Plumeria.”

His ears folded back. “Mermista agreed to that?”

“Well...” she drew out the word. “Not exactly. She came to pick up Sea Hawk and said that I could find you myself. We didn’t really discuss Plumeria, but I’m sure it’s okay. Sea Hawk waved as they left and very clearly said he’d see us there. So it’s probably fine.”

Hordak shook his head uncertainly. “I do not think that qualifies as an agreement.”

“Do you want to go?”

“It does not matter what I want—“

“It does, though.” He looked away, but a lock of hair curled around his cheek, urging him to turn back to her. “It matters to me. So—do you want to go?”

He shut his eyes and took a breath as he considered his reply. Finally, he looked at her and said, “I want to spend time with you; the location does not matter.”

Her smile was brilliant. “Excellent!” Her hair peeled away from him, and she used it to balance as she too pulled away. “May I have your hands?”

Curious, he held out his hands, and she installed a chip on each gauntlet. “What are you—?” She pressed a button, and a tether of purple light appeared between the two chips as his forearms pulled together. His ears folded back, and he tried to pull his hands apart. There were a few inches of give, but the tether held. He suspected he could break the bond if he absolutely needed to, but he was also able to reach the button Entrapta had pressed with ease. He touched it, and the tether disappeared. She turned it back on. “I do not understand what you’re doing,” he said.

“I’m kidnapping you!”

He cocked his head. “That is not an explanation.”

She hooked a rope of hair through the crook of his elbow and began guiding him toward the only steel vessel docked amidst the multitude of wooden ships. Another rope of hair grabbed the trunk, and he realized abrupty that it was his trunk, not hers. “Well, the way I figure, if I kidnap you, you’re not breaking the treaty.”

“But you would be. I do not want you to suffer—politically or personally—for my sake.”

“Actually, I signed the treaty as a member of the Princess Alliance; I didn’t make any promises about rebuilding. In fact, from a certain standpoint, you could read the clauses I agreed to—about pardoning the Etherian Horde for their acts during wartime and not penalizing Prime’s Clones for their actions while under his control—as applying to you. Excluding you from the festival, when all the other Princesses and their partners are allowed to go, is just singling you out for special punishment. Which you don’t deserve and is explicitly forbidden by the treaty.”

“I am free and permitted to remain at your side. I fail to see how I’m being punished for anything. They could be much harsher—“

She turned and used the tether to pull him close, kissing him with unexpected ferocity. He shut his eyes and leaned in, savoring the sensation of her lips against his. She pulled back slowly to look at him. “No, they can’t. Not while I’m here.” Her gaze, too, was fierce. And protective. “My nation has many trade partners, and the tech we produce is very valuable. No one is going to break a trade agreement over this. As for personal consequences....” She pressed her forehead to his, eyes shut, and feathered her thumb along the skin just behind his ear. “You are my best, most constant friend. You’re my lab partner. If they have a problem with that, then they’re not really my friends.” He sighed audibly, tension he wasn’t aware of bleeding out of his shoulders. She pulled back and grinned at him. “Now—to Plumeria!”

He still had his reservations about the whole thing, but he couldn’t find it in himself to deny her. A soft smile tugged at his mouth. “Lead the way, Starlight.”

She smiled and kissed him again, soft and gentle this time.

-

A/N: As always, your comments are deeply appreciated. I’m so happy everyone is enjoying this story. Thank you all so much for your kind words and support!