Eda: What kinda jerk puts "the" in front of their name, anyway?

—The Owl Lady

Blackwall 3, Solas 3, Sera 5, Cole 3, Iron Bull 2, Vivienne 5, Varric 5, Dorian 5, Cassandra 4 and 5. Thank you!

Phew! Done! All answered. Sorry it took me a while & many thanks for the ask!

Blackwall: 3. Did their treatment of Blackwall change after discovering who he was? If yes, how so? 

For the first two weeks or so after passing the judgment on Blackwall, Deirdre was reluctant to talk to him. She needed time to process what happened and understand his motives… Derry isn’t a person who holds grudges, so she eventually forgave him. She understood that whatever he did, he felt guilty of it and desperately wanted to atone somehow for his crimes. She came into a conclusion that allowing him to stay and do some good on behalf of the Inquisition was a good decision. She grew a bit reserved towards him, though. (he usually becomes a warden but on my current playthrough I’m still not sure what to do with him)

Solas: 3. If your inquisitor was told they were “unlike others of their race” by Solas, how did they respond? Were they angry or grateful? 

By the time the conversation took place (assuming the question alludes to the one that took place on the balcony), Derry already had a close although a bit complicated relationship with Solas. She admired his knowledge as well as magical skills. For quite a while, they were pretending that it was nothing more than a mentor-student dynamics and that they weren’t carried away in the Fade soon after they’ve found Skyhold.

So when he told her, he considered different than any Dalish he’s met so far, Derry was most of all abashed and felt a hot blush spreading through her face. It was an unexpected compliment, one for which she was ultimately grateful ;)

Sera: 5. Did your Inquisitor respond well to Sera and seek her company or avoid her?

Their relationship was a bit difficult at first. She was way ‘too elfy’ in Sera’s eyes and her magic wasn’t making things any easier. None of it was enough to make her write Sera off. It required a bit of work on her part but ultimately Derry showed her not only that she doesn’t see herself above anyone who isn’t a mage and that she trusts her even if some of her ideas might sound… unconventional, but also that she can be Sera’s partners in crime ;)

Cole: 3. Was Cole made more human or more spirit and why did your Inquisitor choose what they did?

In my world state Cole becomes more spirit-y. It wasn’t because Deirdre agreed with Solas’ point and disagreed with Varric on what Cole should become. She just couldn’t agree on the path of revenge, even if the templar responsible for the apostate!Cole’s death deserved one. Cole was clearly on edge and she feared that pitted against the man he might end up doing something awful. If there’s one thing you need to know about Derry is that, for better or worse, she tries to avoid any unnecessary violence by any cost.

The Iron Bull: 2. How did your Inquisitor react to the Chargers? Did they utilize them as allies or leave them to Bull?

Deirdre was delighted when they joined and excited to meet them all. She had a very good feeling about them and never said no to anyone offering any help to the Inquisition. Over time Derry grew to trust the Chargers as well as their horned chieftain and relayed on their help with cleaning up the messes left after the major Inquisition’s operations.

She also might’ve asked Krem for a few lessons of sewing ‘cause she was never especially good at it…

Vivienne: 5. How did your Inquisitor feel about Vivienne? Friends? Allies? Rivals?

Friends. Eventually, because for quite a while they were stuck somewhere on the line between friends and allies. Derry disagreed with Vivienne on many things, especially on the matter of Circles. She was happy to recover books, ‘cause she valued knowledge, however she wouldn’t like to see them coming back to towers, at least not the way they were up to the mage rebellion. They had many, sometimes very heated discussions about the matter and sometimes Derry wanted to call the Enchantress out on how her view is warped by the years of living in orlesian palaces, but she’s never done it, mostly ‘cause she never set her foot in any mage tower either. It didn’t seem fair. She knew that despite their differences, Vivienne appreciated her openness, willingness to learn new things and supported most of her decisions. Deirdre of course answered Vivienne’s request for help with obtaining the snowy wivern’s heart and gave it to her as she asked, gaining her not only her sympathy abut also friendship.

Varric: 5. Did your Inquisitor leave Hawke in the fade or save Hawke? How did that affect their relationship with Varric?

(I’ve never left my Hawke in the Fade. I just can’t do it.)

Although, in the realm of my headcanons there’s a scenario in which Hawke makes the decision herself a.k.a. runs towards a Fear Monster before Deirdre can even say a word, screaming to her & Stroud to get the hell out while they can. Not only Keres was always a very impulsive kind of person but also awfully independent. I can’t imagine her waiting or agreeing on anyone making any decision for her.Deirdre still felt awful for not being able to get everyone safely and blamed herself for what took place.

Varric… Well, he wasn’t all that surprised when he was told what took place in the Fade. They had a long, late night talk about Hawke… Varric explained to her that Hawke might’ve been a (very) reluctant hero back in the days, true, but, if it meant saving someone who can restore some semblance of peace in the world and the Warden to whom she had debt for saving her brother, she would sacrifice herself with a wide smile on her lips. He assured Derry he doesn’t blame her at least five times, although it looked like not even the fifth one made Ladybug feel any better. Varric felt sorry for Fenris though, honestly fearing that Broody might do something stupid out of grief. He didn’t mention it to Lavellan not wanting to add to her anguish and they spent the rest of the night sipping brandy and just sitting together by the fire.

Dorian: 5. Did your Inquisitor agree with Dorian’s decision to return to Tevinter? How did they feel about his choice?

Deirdre stood behind his decision, although she was sad for the prospect of her best friend permanently leaving Skyhold. She understood this was something he needed to do and she wouldn’t dare to stop him. Dorian promised to write and send her wine and other lavish gifts from his home country to not allow her to forget about himself. Even shawls made from the most exquisite fabrics from the Imperium wouldn’t make the separation any easier for her, but she knew Dorian was grateful she supported him all the way and that he wanted to express it in any way he could.

Cassandra: 4. Did your Inquisitor agree with Cassandra’s vision for the Chantry? Did they choose her as Divine?

Yes and yes. Deirdre ensured Cassandra ascends to the sunburst throne.  Even though at first Seeker seemed a bit callous, eventually Deirdre got to know the righteous, honest and caring woman hiding under the layers of hard armor. Cassandra didn’t exactly want the job which in Derry’s opinion was the sign she was a perfect candidate for it ‘cause she won’t use it to gain power for herself.

5. Does your Inquisitor know all of her middle names?

Ahahaha XD She had problems remembering them all for a while but eventually, she’s learned them ^^

Inquisitor + Companions Asks

Gold-Tree and Silver-Tree (Scotland)

Source: Alan Garner’s Book of British Fairy Tales Parents in fairy tales aren’t always that great. They might abandon you in the woods because there isn’t enough to eat (Hansel & Gretel), or hand you over to a witch in exchange for food to satisfy pregnancy cravings (Rapunzel), or want to marry you because you look so much like your dead mother (Donkey Skin). Or, in the case of this fairy tale, they may want to straight-up murder you.

“Gold-Tree and Silver-Tree” is a Snow White type fairy tale that I’m starting to like more than Snow White itself. A king has a wife named Silver-Tree and they have a daughter named Gold-Tree. One of the things I find interesting about this story is that the murderous parent is the birth mother and not a stepmother. A trout gives the queen the news that her daughter is more beautiful than she is. Silver-Tree immediately takes to her bed, saying that she’s ill.

The king asks her what’s wrong and I have to quote this next part, because I can’t sum it up in a more entertaining way than it’s written in Garner’s book:

“Oh,” said Silver-Tree, “only a thing that you may heal if you like.”

“Oh,” said the king, “there is nothing at all that I could do for you that I would not do.”

Said Silver-Tree, “If I get the heart and liver of Gold-Tree, my daughter, to eat, I shall be well.”

We can only hope the king was a lot more careful about making promises after this. Now, the most useful thing to do would be to imprison Silver-Tree in a tower or take some other action to stop her directly. Instead, he does the next best thing: there’s another king who is interested in Gold-Tree marrying his son. Gold-Tree’s father agrees, sends her away to another country to marry the prince, and has no hesitation about having the heart and liver of a goat cooked for his wife, saying that it’s from their daughter. By fairy tale standards, this father’s doing all right by his daughter.

(Silver-Tree is full of it, by the way, because she is completely cured after her meal of goat organs.)

Unsurprisingly, Silver-Tree finds out from the talking trout that her daughter is still alive. At this point I suspect the fish of shit-stirring and am a bit surprised that this doesn’t result in Silver-Tree ordering the trout to be cooked for her since it never gives her good news.

And she succeeds in killing her daughter! The servants lock Gold-Tree in a room to keep her safe when her mother visits but she’s stupid enough to let her mother touch her through the keyhole and gets murdered. The prince locks her magically non-decomposing body in a room and remarries.

This next part is my favorite for several reasons. The first reason is that the prince’s second wife is the person who gets shit done: she finds Gold-Tree’s body in the locked room while the prince is away and forgets to take the key with him (nice subverted “Bluebeard” touch, by the way), brings Gold-Tree back to life, and shares the news with her husband. She even offers to leave but the prince said nope, they’re going to be a happy threesome ever after. When the prince goes away on another hunting trip (seriously, that’s always what happens—he’s away on a hunting trip every single time anything happens in this story) and Silver-Tree arrives for another attempt to kill her daughter, the second wife is the one who comes up with a plan to save Gold-Tree and she’s the one who kills the mother. Then, as the story says, “They had only to carry her home a corpse and bury her.” The prince doesn’t do anything in this story! It’s the second wife who’s the heroine, it’s great! If I were ever to be in trouble in a fairy tale, she’s the one I’d want on my side.

All of the above on its own would be enough for me to adore the character of the prince’s second wife, but I have more of a meta reason for liking her: she isn’t punished for merely existing and being the “wrong” wife of the prince. I have two examples that I’ll need to use for this.

The first one is the Brothers’ Grimm story “Hans-My-Hedgehog”: there are two kings who promise to give Hans the first thing which greets them upon returning home, which turns out to be their daughters. The first king tries to avoid keeping his promise, but in the end sends his daughter away with Hans. Now, this princess doesn’t want to marry the hedgehog, but she sucks it up and goes off with him. And what does Hans do? He sticks her with his quills until she’s covered in blood and sends her home because of her father’s actions. The second king and his daughter willingly keep his promise, and the daughter is rewarded by Hans turning into a human.

The second one is a Scandinavian story called “King Wivern” (also known by the titles “Prince Lindworm” and “The Serpent Prince”): the prince, who is in the shape of a dragon, is sent three brides. The first two die immediately after stepping into the prince’s room, but it’s the third who’s given instructions on how to turn him into a human.

They just die! Through no fault of their own, several wives in both of these stories are killed off to make way for the “right” wives who break the enchantment and get to live happily ever after. But in this story, the prince’s new wife saves who should be the “right” wife and isn’t sent home in disgrace, killed off, or married to somebody else. She gets to stay married and unpunished, and saves Gold-Tree yet again.

Adaptations: None that I know of.

John F.M. Dovaston, Magazine of Natural History: Fairy Rings, 1832

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Art. I. Fairy Rings, by John F.M. Dovaston, Esq., A.M., of Westfelton, near Shrewsbury.

    “’T’is very pregnant, The jewel that we find, we stoop and take it, Because we see it; but what we do not see, We tread upon, and never think of it." (Measure for Measure.)

Sir, The fair authoress of ‘The Mummy’ well and wisely observes that "There is an invincible feeling implanted by nature in the mind of man, which makes him shudder with disgust at anything that invades her laws." To such who study and esteem her laws, there cannot be a truth more triumphant. Yet the unthinking mind of man not only indulges in, but doats on, mysteries without meaning, and superstitions without support. Some of these, indeed, in themselves innocent, have, by the genius of poets, been made the vehicles of elegant amusement, and allegorical instruction; while others, dismal and diabolical, have, by the cunning of bigots, become predatory on society, and blasphemous to Heaven. There is a perverse propensity in unenlightened minds to embrace the incomprehensible, and reject the obvious; and millions at this moment implicitly believe in Nixon's ‘Prophecies,’ and those of Moore's ‘Almanack,’ who smile with coarse incredulity at being told of the rotatory motions of our globe, or the cause of an eclipse: doubting what is demonstrable to a child of the commonest capacity, and admitting what would stagger the soundest philosopher. Like the poor woman who, receiving her son from the West Indies, listened with satisfactory conviction to his marvelous narrations of rocks of sugar and rivers of rum, but shuddered, and gave him the flattest contradiction, when he averred that he had seen fishes that could fly; when a moment's reflection, even of her mind, would have shown as near an affinity between fowls and fishes, as between sugar and sand. But these good though simple souls, "most ignorant of what they’re most assured," whose delight is in the marvelous, did they but turn to Nature, would find her kingdom peopled and furnished with incalculably more wonders, ay, and true ones too (were that any recommendation), and each perspicuously and indubitably indicating almighty power, wisdom, and benevolence, than all the abortions that were ever spawned from the monstrous womb of Superstition; even more incongruous and copious than "the stuff which dreams are made of," — more charming, more changing, and more enchanting. What are the tricks and transformations of the most cunning necromancer, compared to the metamorphoses of millions of insects, that actually, and almost hourly, unfold before us; from the smooth and compact egg, to the rough and frightful reptile, through the curious mummy of a chrysalis, to the splendid and celestial butterfly? Look at the myriads of monadal and polypodal molluscous creatures that people every part of the multitudinous ocean! Minuteness, indeed, rather than an argument against, is an augmentation of, astonishment; equal wisdom being displayed, and wonder excited, in the articulations of an elephant or an aphis, in the ramifications of a forest or a fern, in the fructification of a melon or a moss; indeed, the last is incomparably the most intricate and interesting. Look at the fantastic and often, at first, repulsive formations, and apparent deformities, of these creatures of the waters, with limbs and organs in every place and shape but what we expect, and tentacles hundreds of times longer than themselves! Why, heraldry itself never came up to these, with all its hippogryphs, dragons, wiverns, hydras, chimeras, and amphisbaenas dire. Some flowers that are now brought from abroad are so extravagantly eccentric in composition, so magnificent in structure, and so dazzlingly glaring in colors, that the most imaginative painter would never have thought of limning such. Some parasites so expansive and ponderous, having blossoms many feet in diameter, exist on trailing plants utterly unable to support themselves. Nay, the momentary actions of nature are ceaseless successions of miracle; evaporation, condensation, suspension of odor, and vibration of sound. Even poetry is surpassed; for what fairy grotto ever equalled the feathery crystallizations of a frosted pane, glistening and sparkling in splendid brilliance? Or what sparry groves or coral caves of the Nereids, deep in the vast abysms of ocean, could ever vie with a silent frost-forest; heavily still, and candied with spikes of hoary rime, spangling and blushing in the earliest beams of the golden sun? What gigantic palace of enchantment copes in splendor with the columnar shafts of icicles congealed around a winter waterfall? or, in curious castellets, embrasures, and bastions, with the masses of powdery snow sifted fantastically through a hedge into a deep lane? Thus, though lost in the immensity of boundless space, all breathing with creation, the humble student of nature, one of the happiest of earth's creatures, may exclaim with the sublime Callias (in ‘Anacharsis’), "The insect which obtains a glimpse of infinity partakes of the greatness which overwhelms it;" and may cordially say with the philosopher,  Even to such an one as I am, an idiota, or common person, no great things, melancholizing in woods and quiet places, by rivers, the goddesse herself, Truth, has oftentimes appeared:" but on opening his eyes on the pampered and artificial world (whether civil or religious), he will feel with King Lear's honest fool, that "Truth's a dog that must to kennel; he must be whipped out, when Lady, the brach, may lie by the fire and stink." It is an unconfutable truth, that among people who have made the greatest progress in natural history, their ideas of the Deity have always been more refined, exalted, and sublime; while in the darkness of theirs where that science has slept, or been sluggish, their notions of his nature and attributes have been derogatory, detestable, and even diabolical.

But to my intention; or I shall be like Bayle, who, in his work on comets, has forgotten them, and filled his volumes with everything beside, eccentrically erratic: and so may I be herein like a stuffed toucan, all bill and no body. I was led into this lengthened preliminary by some reflections on fairy rings, for the cause of which I think I can account, without offense to that airy people, for whom I confess I have a hankering fondness, in consideration of one William Shakespeare, and his fanciful brethren, who have given them a permanent ascendency they long ere this had lost, but for the embalming power of song; so I shall proceed with all due loyalty to the jealous King Oberon, his crown and dignity: confining myself to the two prevailing opinions of their cause; the first whereof I think I shall confute, and establish the second. Let the incredulous in philosophy continue their superstition; this is a harmless one: for though the fairies have long ago left off dropping testers in our shoes, they do not pick our pockets.

It is asserted that these rings are occasioned by centrifugal fungi, which the ground is only capable of producing once; and these, dropping their seeds outwards, extend the rings, "like circles on the water." Fungi I conceive to be the effect, and not the cause, of these] rings: and ground producing fungi once, is not incapable of reproductiveness, as the possessors of old mushroom beds well know; for simply by watering, they will reproduce exuberantly, without fresh spawn, for many years. Besides, we find all these fungi without rings, plentifully; but very rarely without some visible (and never perhaps without some latent) excitement; such as dung, combustion, decomposing wood, or weeds; indeed, the seeds of fungi are so absolutely impalpable, that I have sometimes thought they are taken up with the juices into the capillary tubes of all vegetables, and so appear, when decomposition affords them a pabulum and excitement, on rotten wood and leaves: and this seed is produced in such excessive quantities, thrown off so freely, and borne about so easily, that perhaps there is hardly a particle of matter whose surface is not imbued therewith; and had these seeds the power of germinating by mere wetness alone, without some other exciting cause, all surface would be crowded with them, and pasturage impeded. Now, were these rings caused by the falling of the seeds centrifugally, they would enlarge, which they do not, but after a year or two, utterly disappear; though plenty of the seed may be seen to load the grass all around. I have brought large patches of these rings into other fields, but never found them enlarge; and the turf I have taken back to replace in the rings has never partaken of their nature. Why, too, should the grass be more rank in the rings? one would conclude the seeds of fungi would make it less so. Now, the exciting cause that occasions these fungi, and deeper verdure to come up in circles, the true, the nimble fairies —

"That do by moonshine green sour ringlets make,  Whereof the ewe not bites; whose pastime is  To make these midnight mushrooms"—  

I hold to be strokes of Electricity: and I owe you "the picking of a crow," good Mr. Loudon, for refusing, some time ago, the admission of a gentleman's Essay on Electricity, averring it incompatible with Natural History; when you very well know that no part of organized nature can go on a moment without it, and that no part of unorganized matter exists, not subject to its pervasive influence. [Footnote: Excepting glass and a very few others similar; to which, however, it may be most easily communicated by the intervention of metal, and made to retain it perfectly when the metal is removed.]

A very considerable portion of those volleyed lightnings and rolling "thunder, that deep and dreadful organ pipe," which often keep such awful coil and "pother o'er our heads," has frequently very little or nothing to do with us; for though a nimbus be heavily discharging its rain, cumuli are bagged up in different heights the lobed and thin edges of which may be often seen through the shower, tinged by the flash; as one cloud is giving or receiving the fluid, according as it is more or less disposed. This may be proved by theory: but I have very often witnessed it, safely seated on the tops of very high mountains, in the calm and quiet sunshine and sweet serenity of a blue sky: and some who read this article will remember witnessing it with me on the craggy heights of the Glissegs, and even from so low an elevation as the Balder-stone of the Wrekin. But when a column of electric fluid affects the earth, either ascending or descending (for I confidently contend, in the very face of some modern theorists, that it ascends innumerously oftener than it descends, though I must not pause to prove it here), it scorches the ground all around its edge, where there is plenty of oxygen in contact with it, and leaves the centre unscathed, where the oxygen is either expelled or destroyed, and so fertilizes the extremity: the consequence is, that the first year the grass is destroyed, and the ring appears bare and brown; but the second year, the grass re-springs with highly increased vigor and verdure, together with fungi, whose dormant seeds are so brought into vegetation, that without this exciting cause might have slept inert for centuries. These fungi are most generally of the Agáricus, Bol¡etus, or Lycopérdon, sometimes Clavària, genus; I have very rarely seen any other. The fertilization of combustion, as agriculturists well know, though violent, being of short duration, these circles soon disappear. They are, moreover, generally found in open places, on hillsides, wide fields, and broad meadows, where lightning is more likely to strike; and seldom near trees or woods, which throw off, or receive the fluid silently and imperceptibly. I have indeed sometimes seen one all round a tree, which must have been by a stroke, from which trees are by no means exempt. I confess I have never been able to produce a single spot by electricity: though a learned friend and myself one summer collected and repeatedly discharged a prodigious accumulation of battery on the grass-plot before my dining room window: but it requires, to produce a very small ring, an incalculably larger column than it is in the utmost power of man to accumulate or discharge. The following year, however, my friend was pleasingly amazed at beholding a noble fairy ring on the very spot! and was long in doubting suspense, till I informed him I had made it with what really acted on the same principles, — fresh soot.

I remember (though for relating it "I may chance have some odd quirks and remnants of wit broken on me"), when a youth at Christ-church, some Oxford wags traced with gunpowder, and fired on the short-mown grass of the Grand Quadrangle in that College, in large capitals, the short monosyllable that so much appears to puzzle poor Malvolio in the epistle forged by his Mistress Olivia's chambermaid; and to the affected indignation of the old dons, and the titillatory fun of the merry Oxonians, the little word flourished there in brown and green for two years; and may be still talked of yet in those frolicksome regions, by such humourists as,

Sir, yours, John F. M. Dovaston. Westfelton, near Shrewsbury, Dec. 30. 1831.

ok but they're literally the same

They even ACT the same

Lois is literally Luz. In more ways than one.

she even did finger guns in one scene LMAO "no don't do that to your boss..."

also can we talk about jimmy he looks like gus lmao

He kinda sounds like him too? That could just be me, I haven't seen anyone talk about that, but still- I feel like he acts similar as well, but that could be me being delusional and comparing the two a bit too much.

I know I'm not the first person to say this in any way but sh lol

Also go watch it its actually a good show lol

I know nothing about DC, or Superman, or any of the characters in this show, or... literally anything relating to it. The only reason I decided to watch it, or even know it exists, is because of Lois and Jimmy. I'm staying tho the show is great so far lol

So yeah go watch it, even if you don't necessarily watch superhero things (like me) hehe

i swear ill get back to incorrect quotes soon

She's always talking about how she's gonna get home, how she's trying to figure out how to get home, how she won't have to pick between her home and the Boiling Isles, and once she's finally home, she says "I'm back" rather than "I'm home". Something tells me that wasn't intentional, but it's still something I noticed.

HELLO I have another account now known as @nevernamev. It's for an Owl House fan musical, I just post the lyrics. It was inspired by Joriah Kwamé's music on YouTube. Just a fun little personal thing I'm doing on my own that I hopefully won't forget about :>

yes, i could have just made a blog attached to this one. did i? no.

Season 3 Hunter, no hair thing

Season 3 Hunter but later, and his hair thing is... back??? Wat

Still

Help why is it back lmfao

this exists now

My name is an anagram of my main username, if I link this account and you know who I am :)