#NOR--assuming they would know Zelda enough to be suspicious that she would do such a thing--any suspicions that it could be some kind

[a-treatise-on-velociraptors]

I've warmed up to a lot about TotK that I didn't like for a while, but I still think if they were to have a storyline entirely revolving around figuring out that there's an impostor Zelda running around causing havoc, they should have coded in Link telling people that the Zelda causing havoc isn't the actual princess instead of just holding his tongue whenever it comes up. Just. Like. A thought.

[katedoesfics]

Shadows of Hyrule | Chapter 40

Link waited for Mipha outside the school at the end of the day. She walked by him briskly, ignoring him as he followed after her. He trailed behind her for a moment as they walked down the road until the school was out of sight. He grabbed her wrist tightly, pulling her to a stop, but she would not turn and face him.

“Stop being so damn stubborn,” he growled at her. “Just talk to me.”

“I have nothing to say,” she mumbled over her shoulder.

Link pulled at her arm so she had to step backwards to keep from falling, closer to him. “Fine,” he said. “Then I guess I’ll talk.”

Mipha turned her head just slightly, studying him from the corner of her eyes for a moment. Link hesitated, unsure of how to begin such a delicate conversation. He wasn’t even sure if he should bring it up, but he couldn’t stand her ignoring him. He let go of her wrist and her arm dropped to her side.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly.

Mipha studied him a moment further. “For what?”

Link scratched at the back of his head, averting her gaze. What exactly was he sorry for, anyway? Sorry for kissing Zelda? Sorry she saw them? That seemed even less ideal. In truth, he was sorry that he wasn't completely honest with Mipha. He was sorry that his actions had hurt her. He was sorry that it had taken him this long to accept the fact that he had feelings for Mipha. Despite that, he wasn't ready to admit that to her. Life was complicated enough with the threat of Ganondorf on their horizon.

“I know you saw us,” he muttered. “Me and Zelda”

“Oh.” Mipha turned her head away from him. She didn’t want him to read the pain that flashed across her face. She felt so stupid and humiliated in that moment, she just wanted to disappear. “Are you sorry that I saw?”

Link could hear the sting in her voice. His heart sank in his chest, feeling awful that he wasn’t smart enough to put the pieces together earlier. He hadn’t meant to hurt her.

“I just… I didn’t know…”

“Know what?”

This was not the conversation he thought he would be having when he woke up that morning. Or ever, for that matter. In truth, he never really considered having to have any sort of conversation about relationships. Almost a senior in high school, and really, he had never had any sort of relationship. He didn’t know how to have this talk, and they weren’t even a couple.

“I didn’t try to hurt you,” he said.

Mipha sighed. “I know.”

“So, why are you mad at me?”

Mipha hesitated, still not looking at him. “I’m not,” she finally said. “I’m mad at myself.” She started to walk forward away from him, and Link did not follow. He let her go, watching until she disappeared around the next block. He wanted to run after her. He wanted to tell her the truth; that he was in love with her. That she shouldn't have doubted that for a second. But he didn't move from his spot on the sidewalk. Perhaps it was better than she was mad at him. If she assumed he didn't care, then maybe she would move on and find someone better worth her time. Someone who wasn't bound to a hopeless destiny.

Link decided to make his way to the shrine. To his surprise, neither Impa nor Paya were there, but he did find Zelda scurrying about Impa's office. There were books scattered along the floor and papers flying in every direction as Zelda ripped through the office like a hurricane She jumped and spun to face Link when she heard him enter, but once she realized it was only him, she turned to resume her frantic searching.

“The hell are you doing?” Link asked.

“There were books here,” Zelda said quickly. She dug through the shelves, flipping through the books before tossing them over her shoulder. “They're not here anymore.”

“So?”

Zelda huffed in frustration. She turned to examine the mess she had made, then quickly set to work replacing the books. “I found them a little while back,” she explained. “They were written in ancient Hylian. I couldn't make heads or tails of them. I asked Impa about them, but she totally blew me off. Told me not to worry about them. And now they're gone. She took them. She's hiding them.”

Link's brows knit, puzzled. “Why would she hide books you can't even read?”

Zelda sighed as she carefully placed the books back where she found them. “Because I tried to read them. I've been teaching myself the language so I could. I've been staying up late to figure it out. Somehow, she must have found out. She's hiding something.”

“Why would she be hiding something?”

Zelda sneered at Link. “Well, that's a good question, isn't it? Worth finding out, don't you think?”

“Alright, alright,” he said defensively. His brows furrowed. “Where do you think she took them?”

“If I knew that, I wouldn't be searching for them,” she snapped.

Link sucked in a breath in an attempt to be patient with her. “Do you want some help?”

“No,” Zelda said sharply. “Why are you here, anyway?”

Link looked around the office. “I just assumed Impa would be here waiting for my dumb ass to show up.”

Zelda snorted. “Well, she's not here.” She sighed. “And I can't be here when she does show. She's already suspicious of me.” She crossed her arms and looked around the room. “I don't know what she did with them, but they're definitely not here.”

“What about the third portal?” Link asked. “Has there been any signs?”

Zelda shook her head. “That's another thing that concerns me. It's been too quiet. We need to find the third portal before someone else does, but it could be anywhere.” She turned back to Impa's desk. “I was hoping I could find some clue as to where it would be so we could be two steps ahead in this war, but,” she hesitated. “Impa seems dead set against us knowing any more than we need to know, and maybe not even that much.”

“What about Paya?” Link asked. “Would she know where the books are?”

Zelda paused in thought. “Maybe,” she said slowly. And then another thought occurred to her. She remembered seeing Paya with a large stack of books in her arms. Was it possible she was moving them? Were those the books she was looking for? Her brows furrowed. “She's too close to Impa,” she said, shaking her head. “I don't know how much we can trust her.”

Link frowned. “Can't trust Paya? I don't think that girl even knows how to lie.”

Zelda shrugged. “Still. She was carrying all those books the other day, remember? Even if she wasn't aware that I was looking for them...”

“You don't trust anyone,” Link said.

Zelda crossed her arms. “No, frankly, I don't.” She sneered at Link. “I haven't been given any reason to trust anyone. Right now, it's me against the world.”

“So, I can quit my day job?”

“You're merely a tool that I'm using to accomplish what I need,” Zelda said, turning her nose up at him.

“Right,” Link said. “I guess we're back to square one where you hate my guts?”

Zelda turned her back to him. “If you're not going to help me look, then leave me alone.”

Link sighed. He didn't seem to be doing well with anyone these last few days. Leave it to him to royally fuck up. He was starting to wonder how long this stretch would last.

“Fine,” he muttered. His brain was simply too tired to try to understand all of Zelda's conspiracies. Wasn't this war complicated enough already?

[kalimuses]

charles is the first to question it. he’d always had a suspicious mind and flight risk tendencies. she loved him, he posed, almost immediately accepting the idea blamelessly while the others bickered. malia’s lip curled into a soft involuntary snarl. the calmness of his tone when talking about what felt so surely like treason to her, setting off the primal creature inside of her. it wasn’t until now that malia had begin to see a likeness in her father figure and foxx. both careless and noncommital to pain, her sister on a biological level and the vampire after lifetimes of suppression. they were both relishers, capable of selfishness and harm without intention, but malia knew that charles came and went. foxx was not charles, she’d been a constant. she wouldn’t leave– but taken? she could be taken. zelda had already begun attempting to track them via a spell, but sometimes malia thinks her mother forgets that she is not a housepet. her wolf was not just a monthly pain in the ass that occassionally wrecked the house and shed on the furniture. she was made to track, and would follow a sent from one side of the country to the other if she had to, especially in search of foxx. she huffed a sharp breath from her nostriles, pushing herself abruplty from the table. she threw her jacket down carelessly by the back door, slipping her shoes off in a fluid motion. noah should’ve suspected what she was doing, perhaps he did– when she didn’t come to him in search of comfort, preferring the coldness of the washington winter to their own bed. she’d barely had enough time to remove the rest of her clothes before her bones begun to snap and reform, knocking the breath out of her. 

it didn’t hurt anymore, not like when she was a child. the first turn was always the worst, but now it just seemed to itch as her pain tolerance grew to meet her genetics. she was a werewolf, she was always born for this, her body knew that much. her first shift had taken hours, the broken bones setting before they could reform and having to break and break and break again. skin ripping and regenerating rather than stretching and accomodating. it took time to trust the pain, to know that your body could withstand it and will yourself not to heal. now it happened so quickly, she’d never even thought to time it. she couldn’t feel the cold anymore, not through the thickness of her pelt as her pitch black form slunk into the tree line, following the strong sent of the hunter- no longer brodie, to a discarded sweater before doubling back. he knew she’d been sniffing him out, he’d left her a fake.

the hunter had underestimed the symbiotic nature of what malia was, estimating that the animal in her would be too enamoured with scents to use human sense and thought. she might’ve missed it under other circumstances as she paced the boundaries of the woods towards the little town. zelda’s perfume and charles’s cologne was so strong it made her sneeze and rub her snout into the dirt to stop the tingles it caused with its saturation. it wouldn’t be uncommon, the two walked this way often. but the scent was unbelievably strong, masking another, and no matter how deeply she inhaled, analysing the tones over and over, she couldn’t identify the sickly sweet rot from charles that should be there. with that, she knew she had found the right trail.

it was dangerous, to enter the parameters of town in this form, no matter the time of night but she did so, ignoring the nagging scold that was a placeholder for what the others would say. her pack was down a member, and she would come for any of them, but foxx? especially foxx, always. she didn’t know how to protect herself like the others did. she was good and he’d taken advantage of that to steal her out from under her home. outside the hairdresser, glass glittered over the ashphalt from a shattered window and the perfume trail begun to dull dramatically. they couldn’t have gotten far, the hunter was strong and fast, but ultimately human. with only an hour headstart, he could drive all night and it wouldn’t matter. she would catch him. she heard a false howl in the direction of home, vocal chords trying their hardest to cry out to her and she knew that her absense had been noted. she wasn’t prowling the woods frustrated, letting off steam as they bickered, she was hunting far from the nest. the sound came again as her ear rotated at the call, though they lacked the ability, she could hear the somber desperation. a low whine snuck from between her clenched jaws when she identified the noise as zelda. her alpha was calling her home. head lowered with shame, she followed in the direction the car car had left. she would ask for her pardons when she came back with foxx, zelda would like that. she’d even wipe the blood away before she came into the house.

it was a long night, with varying levels of frustration and even her legs begun to tire. the scent had almost been lost until a fortunate gas stop had given her new bearings. he had limited places to go and he certainly wasn’t about to take a pixie home to his family, nor could they blend in among the population with ease. a hulking man with someone as small as foxx turned heads, he knew that. she faltered in her long quick strides for a moment, heart thumping wildly as she panted for more air. malia would’ve smelt death if he’d already harmed foxx, surely. but doubts begun to worm into her brain. she’d assumed the hunter had only wanted to escape, but men like him learned to die young. he must’ve known it was likely his life would one day end at the tip of somethings teeth. if he wasn’t running to live, perhaps he’d just finished what he could of his mission. the though ached like a bullet to the gut and made her ears drop back flat against her skull with concern.

zelda and charles had fostered her like their own, parented her and given her a safe place to grow after the decimation of her pack. they had given her mostly everything a child needed, but it had been foxx to ease her animalistic loneliness. using her powers to shift along side her, to hunt and play. though malia had to be gentle, they had wrestled and loved one another like true packmates. with the care she’d been given, she had gotten another family. but with foxx, she had been given back part of her identity that the others couldn’t relate ease. a wolf all alone in the world would never thrive, she needed others and even foxx’s gesture had meant more than she could ever express. malia had never minded when foxx was true to her small form, she knew how exhausting it could be to appear larger over time, just as the pixie had never minded her animalistic company, knowing how confined malia often felt in her human skin. if he’d harmed her sister, she’d ensure he lived as she stripped the skin and muscle from his bones, he would hear them crack and snap between her teeth until he couldn’t last another second. the wolf in her wished to go for the throat, simple and fast. but it was the supposedly civilised part of her mind that knew she’d make him suffer.

the sun was rising and she was beginning to feel the ache of the miles in her bones when the muddied tire tracks begun to lead off road, down a barely noticable, neck snapping driveway. every hair one her body stood stiff as she followed down the steep narrow path, nose the ground to ensure he hadn’t been mislead. she could carry foxx home when this was all over, she didn’t need much rest, just a little while off of her paws and they could go home. the relief she felt knowing she’d found them would be nothing next to her friends arms wound around her neck, when she was safe and sound was time for celebration. the house was nothing much, very similar to something that zelda and charles might’ve found, hard to notice and worn through. but the smell was strong now, barely masked anymore. her tongue lapped over her snarling teeth, her claws inches long and digging deeply into the dirt as she wiggled on the spot, debating whether to barge in or not. she decided against it, instead letting out a deafening howl, a deep and petrifying noise that made her sound as tall as a mountain when she bellowed.

her shoulders sat at five and half feet, making her easily as tall as almost any man on all fours. eyes a bright and burning amber, fixated on the door as if she could make him appear. her teeth sat like short daggers inbetween jaws that closed with the pressure of a car being dropped on top of you. a frightening beast, the human stood no real chance without his fancy tricks. he was welcome to try, she had always enjoyed a good chase. a face peeked out from behind the thick wooden frame that opened, and the harsh rumbling snarl eased at the sight of her, though quickly reappeared with vigor as brodie followed her out. the sun set the sky a pinkish red as it rose, part of her thought it fitting all things considered. foxx seemed surprised to see her, not in a ‘thank you for stopping him from killing me’ sort of way, just the joy of spotting a friend she hadn’t expected to encounter. the hunter looked calmer than she liked, causing her lip to curl more harshly and rumbling to get louder as she gnashed her teeth in his direction.

it took almost a full minute for it to sink in that charles had been right as she observed them. foxx had gone willingly. she had left them to go with the one who had plotted for months to have them killed, her included. she had tracked them to what must be oregon by now, to find someone that had abandoned her to be with a killer of their kind. she expected her body to crumple and dip with sadness, wanting to be small and tucked in around herself but rage engulfed the pain of the realisation as she swung her eyes from him to her, not dropping the hackled growl. she knew she’d never bring herself to lunge, she couldn’t. not even though this treason made the alpha in her blood boil inside of her veins. she couldn’t harm them, maybe wouldn’t– who knew, but she made it clear that the seperation of pack was noted and etched upon them. foxx’s smiled crumpled to confusion, the closest she’d come to hurt she’d seen on her features with her own eyes. if time had been given, an explanation offered, though she would’ve hurt, she may’ve understood. probably even accepted forgiveness from the pixie came easier than it did for the rest of them, not only for the love she bore him but for who and what she was. she could’ve learned to accept it for her friend. but foxx had abandoned her and the only thing malia chased after was prey. foxx was presently neither food nor family. charles had been right and she would return home as the disobedient daughter without even foxx to show for it. her eyes shifted back to brodie once more as she snapped in his direction before turning.

[blitherandblather]

CAoS Theory

If I were a religious man, I'm pretty sure I'd have given Satanism a shot. I'm not the kind of person who commits to anything for very long, so it wouldn't be that big a deal. I switch pinball-fashion from one dead-end, minimum wage job to the next on a bi-weekly basis. I just don't have the attention span to make a career of anything. I've already forgotten what I was talking about at the start of this paragraph and now I'm going to have to go all the way back to beginning to find out. It has pros and cons,  short attention span.

Satan, that's it. Or, at least, the Church of Satan. It's hip, it's new and it's utter bullshit. I find most religions to be utter bullshit, but at least this one has a few ideals I can get on board with. For one thing, Stupidity in a cardinal sin in Satanism. In fact, it's sin number one; it's the worst thing you do in the Church, be stupid. I can agree with that, it's my least favourite characteristic in a person too. There's a suspiciously prominent “don't fuck children” rule thrown in there too, as if in direct response to some other religion. Almost as if they were worried priests getting kicked out of other churches might end up theirs, so they just wanted to get the message out there. Come if you want, but, let's just be clear here, absolutely no fucking children. In fact, no children at all. Seriously, we're not letting anyone under the age of 18 through the door. Understand? Good, welcome to the CoS; here's your birthday cake.

Satanists are also atheists, so there's no real worry about being judged in the afterlife, because there isn't one. They also don't really care if you're a Satanist or not. They don't have masses or go knocking door-to-door. There's very little you actually have to do to be a Satanist. Most of it is about self-reflection and embracing nihilism. Oh, and their High Priest has released a bunch of albums you could use as mood setters while playing Dungeons and Dragons. Above all, though, Satanism is a philosophy and a way of thinking as opposed to an actual religion, and, if I were to join any organisation, I think they'd be the ones for me.

All of which has absolutely nothing to do with the Netflix show Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, a new imagining of the Archie Horror comic book of the same name. It's a far darker and grittier look at the character than that taken by Melissa Joan Hart. Like most of Netflix's own shows, this 10-parter has an ongoing arc, split by story-of-the-week episodes. Sabrina is a half-witch, which means youngsters can relate to her, but also that her life is going to be more interesting than yours.

The Dark Lord, the devil, wants Sabrina to join his legion of followers, like her father promised she would before mysteriously dying in a plot point. But Sabrina is half-human, too, and she has a boyfriend and it's all, like, so unfair and stuff. So, a deal is struck between the innocent teenager and the manifestation of all evil, ruler of hell and destroyer of souls. She's allowed to go to her regular, human school, as long as she also attends The Academy of Unseen Arts, which I was positive was where Rincewind got kicked out of. As if this wasn't complicated enough, there is a witch-killer on the loose picking off Satan's followers. Also, there's like, these really mean girls? And, like, this boy? Like, a wizard boy? And he, like, likes Sabrina? But Sabrina's already with this human guy? It's totes drama, you guys.

There are a lot of positives with the show. Kiernan Shipka, playing Sabrina, is very likeable and exudes a confidence which makes us feel like she's been playing the role for years. The certifiably insane Michelle Gomez, perfectly cast as the possessed corpse of Sabrina's (human) High School teacher/(spoilers) Madame Satan herself, has great fun lurking around mischievously in the background of shots, plotting devious deeds and threatening pretty much everyone she happens to bang in to. Richard Coyle, playing the High Priest, hams it up unapologetically as the puritanical and ever-so-slightly-corrupt Father Blackwood. The show rarely panders to the viewer, assuming we already have at least a passing knowledge of the occult, mentioning Morgan le Fay, Lilith of Aradia, the Witch of Endor, Hildegard of Bingen, Marie Laveau, Tituba, Nehman, Badb, Macha, the Virgin of Juno, and the Kindly Ones (not looking forward to spellchecking that sentence). All of that is in one monologue, by the way, powerful stuff although, admittedly, utter gibberish if you don't know your witches. The plot also leans heavily on the Devil and Mr. Webster, with many feel-good moments where the clever half-human beats the devil himself in a game of wits.

There is plenty to moan about too, however. The storyline is plodding and, for most of the season, utterly directionless. Minor plot points are brought up to give the show a feel of gravitas it doesn't actually possess; an underdeveloped young girl is bullied by transphobic jocks, her father refers to his gay brother as “an abomination” and Sabrina's ward, Aunt Zelda (she's got a harsh exterior but, shock and horror, there's a heart of gold under there!) has an affair with Father Blackwood, whose wife is too pregnant to satisfy him sexually. To atone for this affair, both participants flagellate themselves, which also brings BDSM in to the mix, completely out of place and tone with the rest of the show.

Lucy Davis, Sabrina's other ward, Aunt Hilda (she's got a soft and squishy exterior but, shock and horror, there's a bellyful of fire under there!) mumbles distractedly in the background, utterly unsure how to play the character and becomes more of a distraction from, as opposed to a part of the story. The love triangle between Sabrina, dishy human Harvey Kinkle (who is given precisely fuck all to do except be dishy) and the dishy warlock Nicholas Scratch (maybe a spoiler alert, this was the devil's name in The Devil and Mr. Webster) feels tacked on and pointless. All YA fiction requires a love triangle, because how else can a young woman figure out who she truly is unless she can figure out which, of two, boys she wants to fuck the most?

Characters motives change on a whim, ranging from mildly irritating – Aunt Hilda warning Sabrina not to cast a particular spell, while simultaneously telling her exactly how to do so – to the fucking baffling – Madame Satan helping Sabrina exorcise a demon out of a human body, then coming back later on to murder the human for no fucking reason.

A plot point is brought up early in which a young, and possibly unaware, warlock is brought in to the morgue. He has definitely been murdered, and the Spellmans worry a Witch Hunter has come to town. They are so sure of it, they bring the news to the attention of Father Blackwood, who tells them to ���keep an eye on it”. And it's never mentioned again.

Father Blackwood's position is similarly vague and malleable. In the first episode, the Spellman sisters are so terrified of the man, they're reluctant to even speak to him. In a later episode, when they've got shit going on, they pretty much to tell him to fuck off and let them get on with it. And he agrees. Sabrina constantly interrupts his sermons, pointing out that their religion is a crock of shit and that he, himself, is making up shit as he goes along. She's correct, of course, but he's the head of his particular coven and yet does nothing about her impertinence. On the other hand, when a full witch makes a minor mistake, he threatens to kill her and her two sisters if they ever screw up again. There's absolutely no consistency with his standing in the community, nor what his reaction will be to any given situation. Particularly irritating are the scenes with Blackwood and Madame Satan, during which it's never explained who is whose boss. They bark orders at each other one minute, then cow down the next. It feels like parts of the show are still in their first draft, whereas others have had copious amounts of rewrites, but both have been filmed and edited in to the final product.

Episode five – of ten – is a dream episode! The ultimate failure in any show (Star Trek disguised their dream episodes using a Holodeck instead, but the result was exactly the same), dream episodes are ones in which nothing fucking matters, because it's all a dream. It doesn't matter what happens in the episode, it's wiped out by the end credits. To stick a dream episode halfway through your first season stinks of an underdeveloped script. If there isn't enough plot to fill up ten episodes (and, believe me, there isn't), then don't film ten episodes. Condense it in to nine, or eight. Hell, be British about it and just have two six-part seasons and then never return to the premise ever again. You'll be beloved forever.

Therein lies the major problem with CAOS. There just isn't enough of it, and there's too much of it. The characters are, on the whole, dull, unimaginative and one-dimensional. The plots to each episode are dribbled across an hour plus of screen time, with barely half an hour's worth of material and the overall arc of season one focusses far too much on setting things up for season two, without giving us a reason to want to come back. By the end of episode ten, I was bored more than anything. I cared nothing for any of the characters and any good will I had felt towards the show at the beginning had been long-since spent. To the devil with them all.