#hammer of olympia

[eddiebreeg666]

Just finished my mini Iron Warriors binge.

[chapter-master-darius]

Perturabo sits down opposite from Darius. 'Well, what a surprise. Ten thousand years later and you're still kicking... Are you sure you're not one of mine?' (@hammer-of-olympia

“Yes, I’m sure. And don’t act all chummy with me. I was at the Iron Cage.” Darius says without looking up from sharpening Libertas.

@hammer-of-olympia

[probablyasocialecologist]

Currently reading

[tertiusdecimusfilius]

My lord, would it be too much to ask you to check on Perturabo? He seems to be having a mental break

There was a brief silence before he gave a small nod. "Of course I'll check on him. Thank you for bringing it to my attention."

[neonjawbone]

been reading Perturabo: Hammer Of Olympia and man. how many ways can i draw one guy frowning.

[sanguinaryfroot]

this goes unfathomably hard

[remembrancer-of-heresy]

Replica (Part 4)

Summary: The iron cage has slammed shut and you will never leave it.

Perturabo/fem!Reader

Warnings: incest (kinda), possessive behavior, manipulation, humiliation, smut (finally :D), dubious consent

Word count: 2601

Finally, after a while, I was able to finish part 4. Perhaps I will write part 5 with the daemon prince, but I need some time for it. Updated the images (what I love about Tumblr is that you reblog the old version of the post, but by going to the original you can see the new version, it's very convenient). Specifically re-read The Hammer of Olympia for this one. I hope you enjoy it, it was a lot of fun to write.

Song: Mitski - Washing Machine Heart

You still remember the first time Perturabo kicked you out because you mentioned Dorn. For two weeks he did not meet with you and did not have a heart-to-heart talk, moving away as far as possible. You thought that the primarch would do the same now, but the very next day he summoned you to his chambers.

You felt awkward for the first hour, but gradually relaxed. But still wondered why the Iron Lord behaved so strangely in the baths. Of course Perturabo was hard pressed by his responsibilities, but his sudden rage was unusual. You haven't done or said anything wrong.

Maybe he changed his mind about you? He realized that he became attached to you when a primarch should not have weaknesses. Does he see you as more than a mortal friend? Does he think of you as a sister or... something more?

These thoughts made you blush, and you hid your face in the book while Perturabo worked on the drawings. No, this is unthinkable. Of course, you knew that the primarchs had families on their planets. Parents, adoptive siblings and friends. But could they have romantic feelings for mortals?

And did you want to become his lover?

You could barely restrain yourself from jumping out of your chair and rushing around the room due to the abundance of thoughts. Feeling a strange sensation, you raised your head and with a gasp saw the attentive gaze of the primarch. You swore he could hear your heartbeat.

“Very exciting poems” - you tried to justify yourself by telling half-truths. You really liked these verses and it would be better if the lord did not know your thoughts. - “I never thought that I would love Olympic poetry about love so much.”

The primarch continued to glare at you and you shifted nervously in your chair. Did you say something bad? Since Perturabo called you, it means he is not offended or angry. But why does every minute with him last like an hour? Why is the room so hot, and the mere sight of a man makes you tremble?

“You can call me Bo.” - the primarch said quietly before turning to the table. - “During this time, I became attached to you almost like a sister. So why not make our communication even more... close.”

You smiled softly, accepting such a wonderful offer with all your gratitude. Your heart was happy. Enough time had passed to experience grief and yet you missed your parents and brothers. It was nice to feel part of the family again. Even if it is so unusual.

You involuntarily rolled your shoulders, throwing off the recent strange hot sensations. It’s as if you felt someone else’s emotions and desires that are unusual for you. But as always, you tried to brush aside the annoying thoughts and continue living in your “dome.”

***

You continued to live carefree, not knowing the sorrows of mere mortals, from time to time forgetting about the monstrous actions of the primarch. He was terrible in anger and did not value people, regarding them only as a piece of meat. He despised the weakest sons, “covered with rust” and unworthy to bear the title of Iron Warriors. He pumped out all the resources from the planets that came his way.

He had told you about his deeds before, but only the tiniest bits. Enough to frighten you and force you to obey him in everything. But you spent much more time talking about more abstract topics. Beautiful and creative. But Fulgrim's betrayal and journey into the Eye of Terror took their toll.

Now the primarch began to pour out his soul to you more and more often, sharing the terrifying methods of the art of war and enslavement. He spoke about the crimes of other legions and the warp space that you recently visited. Perturabo didn't seem to care what you thought about what was happening in the galaxies. You are just an ordinary mortal girl who will not survive in this world without him.

But you were truly frightened when the iron lord told you about the betrayal of Horus, the demons of the warp, the World Eaters and the daemon prince Angron, with whom Inron Warriors would go to their greatest battle. Siege of Terra. The man saw the horror you were in, watched as tears flowed down your cheeks and how awareness gradually came.

“I understand how difficult it is to find out all this. But nothing can be done. The False Emperor must be overthrown, and we will rule the Imperium as we deserve.” - the primarch, grinning darkly, stroked your head. - “I promised to take care of you. And I will continue to cherish you. Nobody cares about you except me. You would have become a slave or fodder for fuel in the hands of my brothers or continuing to live under my father's rule. Without me, you are a mere mortal girl, one of trillions. You are nobody. Nothing."

The man’s words hurt painfully, and yet you pressed closer to him. Thoughts swirled in my head. Your home world was far from the Solar System and yet your life was quite acceptable. You had a loving family, you did not live in poverty, and working as a chronicler was your long-time dream. Rogal Dorn brought your world into harmony, improving life on the planet and you were glad to become part of the Imperium.

But now it was just a dream. A deception. No, the primarch could not lie to you. The Imperium is rotten and sooner or later an unenviable fate would await you. The world was full of dangers and you could not resist these horrors. You would have been torn to pieces, gutted and eaten alive long ago if it weren't for Perturabo. He saved you. If he didn’t need new personal slaves, if you weren’t noticed, then you would... you would...

“Bo,” you whispered chokedly, swallowing tears and trying to calm your breathing. Fragile fingers squeezed the iron lord's tunic with force. - "I'm scared."

The man stopped stroking and you held your breath until you felt the touch of fingers on your chin. The primarch gently lifted your head, forcing you to look straight into your eyes. You could only gasp in horror and the feeling of safety next to Perturabo.

“You mortals do not obey me. You don't know what's good for you. There is no peace and kindness in this world. Only violence.” - your lips trembled and you let out a strangled squeak, feeling the grip on your face intensify. Almost possessively, the man held you close to him, never breaking eye contact. - “You promised that you wouldn’t leave me. So continue to listen to me. Love me and I will build a perfect world for you.”

You cannot stand the excess of emotions and, sobbing, bury your face in the primarch’s chest. Some part of you knew he was fooling himself. He wants to destroy and recreate everything anew just for himself. And you were part of this vast plan, a chaotic and terrifying dream, recreated from the darkest feelings of a primarch.

But the world around you was disgustingly cruel and merciless. You won’t be able to take a single step, the monsters will immediately destroy your body and mind. You didn't have anyone. No family, no friends. There are no enemies left, and the strangers have disappeared. There was no human warmth around you and you didn’t notice how you were left alone in an iron cage. Only Bo was with you. You only had him.

And if Terra must fall for the Iron Lord to be happy, then so be it.

***

He lost. The opportunity to rise was taken away from him. He was deprived of his greatest triumph. The Solar War ended in victory only thanks to Perturabo. He alone bore on his shoulders the responsibility for the entire success of the traitors while the rest of the legions indulged in senseless violence and debauchery.

But the worst thing was that Horus did not allow him to storm the Imperial Palace. He was not allowed Dorn's creation to be destroyed. He was not allowed his once beloved father to laugh in the face, who preferred another son to him. The warrior turned out to be a slave of the Chaos Gods, having lost his power and strength. And his brothers would not have been able to contribute to the war if not for the Iron Lord.

He's so tired of it. Complete disappointment. Retreating to Mars, Perturabo continued to oversee the ongoing Siege of Terra. Rage and resentment overwhelmed him and he destroyed everything that came in his way. He did not spare his creations, nor his slaves, nor his sons. He was humiliated. Again.

He hated them all. And the Emperor, and the loyalist brothers and traitors. They all mocked him. No, that will not do. The Warmaster may win this war, but he won't be celebrating for long. Perturabo will not let them rest on his laurels, oh no. He will rise above them all. The Primarch was humanity's greatest creation, but that was not enough. He needed more strength, more power. He will become a deadly deity who will crush everything in his path. All galaxies will obey him. Everyone will fear and respect him.

He will rule over everyone. And with him his Legion. And with him...

The man stopped abruptly, sucking in a breath and slowly lowering the hammer. Containing his emotions, he slowly walked towards her chambers. How long had he been trying to drown out his feelings, to deceive himself? How long and unsuccessfully have he tried to suppress this desire?

She was a fragile mortal, unworthy of his attention. But she had been a part of his life since his childhood. Crafty and smart, so kind and beautiful. She was weak, but so pleasant and sweet to the taste. Only she was allowed to see his soul hidden behind the iron. He told himself that he almost loved her like the Emperor... No, he loved her much more than his father. And the whole world.

The primarch slowly opens the door and sees you cowering next to the bed, trembling in horror. Of course, you now know about what is happening in the world and what sacrifices Perturabo makes to make your life enjoyable. Besides, you probably heard him raging with anger. Well, now you just have to calm him down.

“Bo?” - your voice trembles with surprise and you almost sigh with relief. You rise to your feet, but you can’t even take a step from the tension. - “Is it over? I-I heard how angry you were. Are you-”

“Take off.”

It's that simple. No confessions of feelings, no long conversations. The primarch did not want to wait any longer. He let you close enough to him. Why use unnecessary words when you can strengthen your connection in such a primitive but intriguing way? You freeze and open your mouth in surprise. Hands tug at the dress, unable to remove the fabric stuck to the body.

The primarch notices a blush on your cheeks. Embarrassment is an unnecessary quality, but he likes to see you in this state. It's quite charming. But he doesn't want to waste another minute. With sharp steps, the man approaches you and with one hand, forcefully tears your dress, exposing your body. You scream and try to cover yourself, but Perturabo grabs your hands, not letting you.

The man swallows, looking at your perfect forms. On your femininity. This is an ordinary human body, nothing special. He had seen naked people more than once, and females too. But you aroused him. The Emperor removed such base desires from the Astartes, but the Primarchs were a different matter. They experienced a greater range of emotions than mere mortals. They knew and saw more. But the war for humanity and service for the Emperor did not give them the opportunity to experience carnal pleasures. To become attached to mortals in a different way.

But now Perturabo no longer serves anyone but himself. And he could do whatever he wanted. With these thoughts, the man begins to touch you, no, caress you. That's what it's called. His hands on your shoulders and waist. Touching your lips, kissing your breasts and stomach. Listening to your breathing. Lower and lower until it reaches your thighs. Primarchs grew up in flasks; they were not born naturally between their mother's legs. And you... you would have been a wonderful mother to his real sons.

The man throws you on the bed and takes off his clothes. It’s good that he took off his armor first. He couldn't stand waiting that long. The primarch climbs on top of you and is displeased to see the fear in your eyes. Because of the difference in height? Women can endure even more than that, and sharing the bed with a primarch should be the greatest honor. Especially with him.

Or is it because of the blood of slaves and sons that got on his face? Still fresh, it dripped onto your body and you shuddered every time. In truth, he doesn't care. Now you are afraid, but soon you will dissolve in him and thank him for this.

Perturabo abruptly enters you, tearing you apart and looking with ecstasy at how your face stretches out in pain. He feels your blood and cannot wonder if he is your first or if your tender body is simply not intended for a primarch. Even if it's not meant to be, you have to accept it.

“Be quiet. Control yourself. I don't want to hear your screams. I don’t want to see you hurt.” - He wants it in some way. Make you suffer for what you did with him. The man moves his hips and you bite your lip. - “I just want to hear your moans. You have to beg me for it.”

The Iron Lord continues to slowly fill you, peering into your face until he notices dramatic changes. How your mouth opens slightly and your eyes close from the rush of feelings.

“Bo, I”

"You were right. I crave love. I want love. And you have to give it to me, you have to.” - the primarch accelerates, not allowing you to get a word in. “They underestimate me, but it only makes things worse for them. I am the grandest, sister. I am superior to everyone in this world. I'm not a boy, I'm a man. And now you see it. You see it.”

Perturabo leans down with difficulty and begins to kiss your neck, leaving hickeys. He remembers the sound of crunching, he remembers blood and dead eyes. It wasn't you. It was a decrepit old woman who called herself you and dared to condemn him. Daring to mock him. And you, crying with pleasure, know your place. So continue to remain at his feet and he will show you a perfect world.

The man groans and pronounces your names, continuing to whisper about his grievances and shout about imminent divinity. Until he finally fills you and sinks onto the bed with a sigh. Burying your small figure with his massive body. Completely unaware of your tears and misunderstanding in your eyes. How a drop of love mixes with true horror.

But if he saw it, it wouldn't change anything. You belonged to him. You were his and only his. The iron cage was finally closed. And now the bird will sing only to him.

[nevesmose]

Strategy boards occupied much of the hall’s space. These were thronged by Iron Warriors arguing how best to represent the hrud in their simulated battles. Their recent setbacks had exercised their minds as much as their anger, and ambitious warsmiths could see the glory to be won if they concocted a winning strategy. In truth, all warsmiths were ambitious, and they all had different ideas. In the first place, they could not agree how best to test their theories. Those that favoured the purity of wood block formations and outcomes decided by the casting of ten-sided dice argued bitterly with the proponents of cogitator-assisted hololith battle simulators.

Perturabo: The Hammer of Olympia by Guy Haley.

[mythologer]

The monumental Statue of Zeus at Olympia in Greece was one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World. Created in the 430s BCE under the supervision of the master Greek sculptor Phidias, the huge ivory and gold statue was bigger even than that of Athena in the Parthenon. Worshipped by pilgrims from across the Mediterranean, the statue inspired countless imitations and defined the standard representation of Zeus in Greek and Roman art in sculpture, on coins, pottery, and gemstones. Lost in later Roman times following its removal to Constantinople, Phidias' masterpiece captivated the ancient world for 1,000 years and was the must-see sight for anyone who attended the ancient Olympic Games.

The statue of mighty Zeus was over 12.4 m (41 ft) high and represented the god seated on a throne. It was bigger even than Phidias' Athena Parthenos in Athens. The Zeus statue, like Athena, was chryselephantine, that is a combination of gold and ivory over a wooden core, with the god's skin (face, torso, arms and legs) being in ivory and his beard, robes, and staff rendered in brilliant gold, applied in hammered sheets. Fine details were picked out using a wide variety of materials: silver, copper, glass (for the decorative lilies of the god's robes), ebony, enamel, paint, and jewels. The clay moulds discovered in Phidias' workshop for a similar statue suggest that it was first erected there in pieces - the size of the workshop is exactly the same dimensions as the inner cella of the temple - and then reassembled at its final destination. The wooden core could not have been fully sculpted or the moulds would have been unnecessary to shape the outer gold pieces.

Zeus' throne - made using ivory, ebony, and gold, and encrusted with glass and gems - was embellished with relief sculpture depicting a wide range of figures from Greek mythology, many of which were considered the offspring of Zeus. There are the Graces (Charites), the Seasons (Horae), various Nikes, sphinxes, Amazons, and the children of Niobe. The screens between the legs of the throne were painted by Phidias' brother Panaenus (Panainos) and depicted the Labours of Hercules, Achilles with Penthesilea, Hippodamia with Sterope, Salamis, and scenes of Greece. The god rested his feet upon a footstool which was decorated with a battle scene involving Theseus fighting Amazons (Amazonomachy).

[tertiusdecimusfilius]

"I came to check on you," he said, a frown lightly tugging at the corners of his mouth. Though he wasn't going to back off easily. "If you need someone to talk to, I'll listen."

"Perturabo," Guilliman says softly. He'd heard of the outburst and it left him worried. He can already guess the answer but he asks anyway. "Are you alright? What is weighing on you so much?" ((@tertiusdecimusfilius ))

“My patience wears thin Robute, what do you want.” Perturabo says gruffly. The extreme cynicism seems to have finally caught up to him.

[moodymisty]

Hi, i was wondering if you could do an x reader for dorn or mabey peterturabo again. I just love these boys

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Author's note: Hey anon, I just posted this Dorn fic here, but I feel a little bad leaving you empty handed and I do love me some Perty, so here's a little tiny snippet I didn't know what to do with.

Relationships: Perturabo/Gn!Reader featuring Sanguinius

Warnings: Perturabo. Sanguinus being a bit of a cunt (as he should be) and poking Perturabo's fragile ego

"Ahh, so you must be Lord Perturabo's littlest warrior. We were wondering if we'd ever catch sight of you."

Sanguinius looks down on you with a gentle smile. You assume the 'we' he refers to is his fellow Primarchs, an idea of which makes your stomach twist and turn in your gut.

"I hope he hasn't been too inhospitable since," He glances away, his miffed expression cues you into what he's more than likely referring to. His wings gently shift, the feathers fluffed out comfortably. The golden armor he wears reflects the cold sunlight of Terra and gives it a golden sheen, his pelt cape shifting as he favors leaning on one leg.

You haven't looked directly in his direction since he joined you on the massive balcony, and you turn to bow and speak with the proper prose. It's the least you can do after being surprised with his arrival. You'd barely even heard his footfall before hearing him speak, his gentle but firm voice had nearly startled you out of your basic wits.

"He's been well, Lord Primarch."

It's the least you can do in the presence of the angel; You hadn't been expecting him and you feel so hideously under-dressed, tongue twisting to try and form the proper words.

The Angel manages to both soothe your nervousness and heighten it, as the corners of his mouth turn upwards and he lets out a small laugh.

"I do hope Perturabo doesn't demand you speak to him with such theatrics; He's always been the stauncher of us a-"

"Sanguinius."

The angel turns to the entryway from where he'd come, blonde hair falling over the collar of his armor in waves. The larger Primarch moves closer looking directly at Sanguinius, but the angel is effortless in deflecting the irritation Perturabo throws at him.

"There you are. We were just talking about you."

Peturabo is already in a foul mood, and to find his winged brother sniffing around you and using that silver tongue of his only serves to stoke that already fueled fire. Sanguinus' smile drops just a tad as he realizes Perturabo's discontent figuratively spilling over onto the marble floor.

The Hammer of Olympia steps closer to you and with one massive hand, places it on the railing; Separating you from Sanguinius and obscuring most of your form. The silent display of possessiveness is a bit surprisingly to the angel, as you watch his expression change.

"Am I not allowed to jest with my brother and his beloved?"

The two of them are completely at odds with one another; Though Sanguinius knows well that Perturabo is being tested. He simply finds it amusing to make him bristle. The air around you is so thick you swallow heavily, watching the two of them.

You could never tell another Primarch to cease, nor would Perturabo ever forgive you for the stain on his honor of trying to fight on his behalf. It would also be a dream to even entertain the idea of him taking the higher ground and not attempting to pick a fight with Sanguinius, of whom glances down at you and watches the way you get swallowed by Perturabo's shadow.

But now you stand in the vicinity of two near demigods, sweating hands holding onto the railing of the balcony as the angel continues to nettle Perturabo.

"Fine fine, I'll take my leave."

Sanguinius looks outward over the balcony before glancing down at you. His expression is unreadable- a flawlessly gentle smile and soft eyes as he looks over Perturabo's massive arm. He squares his shoulders more so in preparation if Sanguinus attempts to move closer to you.

"Enjoy the palace, little warrior."

[madamshogunassassin]

The hammer of olympia, Perturabo

[artifacts-archive]

Bronze Head of a Griffin

Greek, third quarter of the 7th century BCE

Bronze cauldrons set on tripods or conical stands were among the most spectacular votive gifts dedicated in Greek sanctuaries from the eighth to the sixth centuries B.C. Cast-bronze griffins' heads often decorated the cauldron rims; they projected outward from the shoulder of the vessel on long necks made of hammered or cast bronze. Some of the dedicated cauldrons were colossal. The Greek historian Herodotus describes one made for King Kroisos of Lydia that could hold 2,700 gallons and another dedicated on the island of Samos that was supported by huge kneeling figures. Over six hundred bronze griffins' heads from cauldrons are known today; most have been found at the sanctuary of Zeus at Olympia or at that of Hera on Samos. This enormous head is one of the finest.

[aveimperatcr]

" There was specifically this one... single moment, I had heard of. It may seem small to you, but it was one that truly stuck with me even after everything... and of course, many of your military feats with the efficiency you handled them. They were effective. "

" You pointed out the cognitive dissonance of the Adeptus Mechanicus and the Priesthood... and you knew that their way of thinking would only lead to stagnation. You understood that their way of preaching rationality, yet believing the machines all had spirits of their own, was... almost nonsense. Most others did not have the ability to ever speak up to them, not even myself, due to their monopoly with the crafting of weapons, armor and vehicles still used today. "

" ... I know I have not treated you well. Nor any of your brothers well. But I wish to make it right. " He moved his hand forward, about to place it onto her shoulder, only to suddenly pause. It seemed like he would've said something cruel, completely ruining everything, yet instead what met her was a very, very quiet...

" ... could I hold you, daughter of mine? "

The humanity-shard of the Emperor has arrived, just to look to Perturabo, without a word, and go,

" Did you know I'm proud of your accomplishments? "

// @aveimperatcr, i just think perturabo deserves something nice as a treat

@aveimperatcr

Perturabo meets her fathers gaze. At first there is surprise.

Then there is shock.

And then, tears begin to well in her eyes.

'You... you are?' She asks uncertainly. 'Which ones... are you proudest of?'

[tertiusdecimusfilius]

tag drop

[serendertothesquad]

Seren's Studies: Odd Squad UK -- "Odd Ones In" Episode Followup, Part 3

And so we move on to Part 3, la-dee-dee, la-dee-dee.

Let's go!

I noted this before, but the fact that they now have a special effect for when gadgets are combined so that it makes a new gadget entirely is a fucking hell of an upgrade over the "stacking" we got before, so to speak. Keep it up!

Not gonna lie, I half-expected the man to whip out a fedora and throw it on his head and do the "m'lady" meme.

Opie being in the Mail Department before going to the Department of Help is honestly a move I was not expecting. Though it does make her promotion to the latter department make a lot of sense.

*slowly raises hand*

...

Are they lesbian mo- *bonk x3*

Had I not seen an ice cream shop in a garage with barn doors before, I'd have laughed at this and said this was insanely weird shit.

...Okay, maybe not for Britain...but still.

The audio balancing is so awful here that even I had to cover my ears. And keep in mind that I may have autism, but my hearing sensory issues largely ebbed away a good several years ago and things like vacuums don't bother me as much anymore as they did in childhood.

That being said, I'd scream if I were being served to people so they could eat me, too.

Keep hammering it in, episode, and maybe your audience's feeble minds will be able to comprehend it as real soon enough.

ONE MORE SHOT FOR "ASSISTANT'S CREE-EEEED", ONE MORE SHOT OF WHISKEEEEEEEEEEEY-

The fact that an Un-Scream-inator exists at all raises some very horrifying questions.

It also makes a wonderful prompt for a horror fic...and my gears are turning already.

See, this is amusing to me because Full Circle, a well-known fic in the fandom, had Olive and Oscar being given free meals for saving the world.

In a way...I guess you could say this makes that canon, even if it's just ice cream.

*the most bitter, fake laughter ever seen in man*

I can see now why he's associated with the Terrible Three. The bastard spins stories with enough skill to make it in fucking politics and denies a girl a chance for free ice cream when she just arrived in a new city.

But also, Orla was also involved in a pastry war, does not enjoy traditional cakes (at least not until later), and is one of the "living legend" agents I mentioned earlier. Thread's been cut, and fuck you and your scummy shit, Ozzie.

the man fakes his new friend having trauma from fighting in a war

she eats the ice cream anyway

The irony is rawer than freshly-cut steak.

...I'm sorry, I had to replay this at least five times to make sure I heard what I heard...

The Odd Squad History Book?

There's a fucking history book???

Then what in the ass-laden fuck did we need Olympia's eidetic Odd Squad memory for? What did we need Olive's little historian side for? What kind of ASS-BACKWARDS BOOK IS THIS.

I'm sorry, but I need them to rectify this yesterday because the only way they could possibly add insult to injury is to shout me out directly, and that has a 0.001% chance of actually happening.

Fandom, let's get crackin' on making an actual history book that's accurate. With blackjack, and all 13 living-legend agents!

"I'm Orli with an 'i', from Niagara Falls."

"Which side?"

"I- what?"

"There are two sides, no?"

"...The Canada side."

"Oh."

"Anyone who goes to the New York side is deemed unfit to serve."

"...Oh."

"You don't wanna know."

"No, I don't."

"It seems that all the oddness has been getting under control."

Suddenly the plot of the finale is making a lot more sense to me now. "Strength in numbers" is a very lost concept on this Director and her agents.

"Hold on, that thing was an egg?!"

Suddenly the theory of Opie not being here for very long makes a lot more sense to me now. "Failing a spot check" is a very lost concept on this agent.

Oh, this guy and his dramatic gasps...Lord, I love him.

If Ozzie thinks some random-ass agent named Orly from Texas is the best agent in the world, then do I got about 13 bridges to sell him.

And before I sell him those bridges, I'm knocking down the pedestal he's placed Orly on.

To be fair, she does have a point...but the girl is taking being in a new country a bit too casually for my liking.

You're telling me my dumb lil' American ass can land in Britain and be accustomed to it in the span of a few hours? Off you will fuck. No way in hell.

"Everything seems really quiet here."

Even if I hadn't read "and Captain O unable to help" from the synopsis, I would have already taken this as a red flag shoved into my eye holes.

Oh, the inverse dolly zoom! I don't think we've seen that trick before. Nice to see!

Onom's busy running in place telling them about the egg, and Orli, the cheerful innocent gal she is, decides this is a good time to introduce herself.

Bless her heart, and I mean that so genuinely it even hurts me.

Okay, I wasn't expecting the screaming and running agent-in-training in the background. That's a delightful touch and a great mix-up from the days of yore when background agents, for the most part, just existed.

It's...his name...IS SHORT FOR ONOMATOPOEIA????????

WE ESTABLISHED THAT WAS DR. O'S FULL-ASS NAME IN ODDTUBE FOREVER AND A HALF AGO HOW FUCKING DARE YOU.

This, folks, is why the staff needs fans on the team.

Let's be honest: if this episode weren't all over the place, this would have been a much longer gag than it actually is.

And frankly, I'm glad it wasn't that long at all.

Oh they didn't just seal her in an ice cube -- they sealed her in ice IN THE FUCKING ROOM OF ODDNESS.

For a newly-hatched creature, that is downright fucking sadistic, strong-ass Director or not. At least when Oprah was frozen in an ice cube she was fine. Same goes for Oscar, and same goes for the Mobile Unit agents.

Aaaand another shot of alcohol for "Dance Like Nobody's Watching" ripping!

...mmmmmthworldspsinnign...

Onom is easily my favorite character of the main cast and I haven't even gotten through the entire episode yet. The man is just vibing. He's a chill vibin' man. How can I not love him?

Okay, this is just as sadistic. It's trapping agents in rooms and letting them freeze to death, which is arguably worse than just trapping them unmoving in blocks of ice.

(On to Part 4!)