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lazysublimeengineer · 3 years

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Dream Place

The rustling sounds of the paper reverberated softly against the walls of his laboratory as he continued writing some equations and diagrams for the next experiment and research that he’ll do with Chrome and Kaseki. The stone wars were finally over. Everything was back to normal. Another busy day of preparations in the Kingdom of Science.

Now that he temporarily formed a truce with Tsukasa, he can finally continue his goal of saving the lives of petrified people and pushed forward the civilization towards the era of modernization with the help of science.

So, for the next few days he can see everyone greeting him amid their busy work. Except for one.

The cryptic, viridian eyed archer: Ukyo Saionji. He was quiet, observant and polite. But his thoughts and goals were mostly shrouded by his inscrutable smile. He can never quite figure him out unlike the other people that he observed and studied previously. Despite Ukyo’s peaceful reticence and congenial attitude with the others, he was always controlled and his seraphic features were always obscured by his closed off smile and mystifying gaze.

Senkuu now realized how Ukyo could survive a year in the empire of Tsukasa.

His presence intrigued him.

Senkuu finally found him one day sitting at the top of one the oldest and tallest trees in the world. His hat was down on his face while his hands were clasped gently in front of him. He wasn’t deceived of his soporific stature as he knew that the sonar man possessed a sharp sense in hearing.

“There you are.” He stared up nonchalantly at his direction.

“Do you need something from me Senkuu?” Ukyo’s voice is tranquil and unruffled like a wave less water around the sea.

“Do you always relax in strange places?” Senkuu asked instead as he stared up at the male who was sitting comfortably in one of trunks of the tree with an arched brow and curious gaze.

“They’re more quiet and peaceful. Unlike in some places that has too much noise and distraction.” Ukyo finally took off his hat from his face and smiled serenely at him.

There’s that smile again that Senkuu couldn’t decipher the meaning behind. Senkuu prided on himself on being able to observe and study the people around him to decipher the true nature of their characters. That’s one of the reasons why he could see through Tsukasa’s hidden nature and radical but dangerous beliefs early on their meeting in the past. But with Ukyo, he couldn’t quite get a thorough read on him. That damn smile and pleasant voice seemed to be plaster on his face regardless if he’s upset or not. No wonder he ended up as one of the right-hand man of Tsukasa alongside with Hyoga. That kind of characteristics would work well for him as a double agent in the future. And he was certainly toying with that kind of idea at the back of his mind.

“Sensory overload.” He replied simply.

“Hmm?” Ukyo gave him a quizzical look.

“Because of your insane hearing sonar man. You need something to prevent that and it might affect your performance in the future if we just leave it be. And that’s why I’m looking for you. C’mon.” Senkuu turned around and began walking away, not waiting to see his reaction.

He almost blurted out an inconceivable mistake of admitting that he just wanted to see him out of curiosity and nothing else. He had a reputation to uphold and he didn’t want him to give any weird ideas to the cryptic archer about himself.

Ukyo seemed surprised for a few seconds, blinking at his words before a small but sincere smile hovered around his lips as he jumped down the tree and followed him.

“Thank you Senkuu.”

“Don’t thank me yet since it’s not done.” He scoffed lightly to which it earned an amuse chuckle from the other male.

He decided that Ukyo was still an enigmatic conundrum to him but he was still a man of science after all. And there were no mysteries that science can’t unravel.

The next time Senkuu saw Ukyo was when he was inside his laboratory and giving him a brief report about the progress of their ship building. He was wearing the earmuffs that he made for him the other day. It was coated in the same shade of his clothes and he surmised that it fits him very well. Not that he was ogling of course. It was a simple observation and conclusion from his scientific mind.

He would’ve created a noise cancelling headphones for him but he theorized that it would take a very long time due to the limited resources that they’ve had in the stone world and not to mention he still had other necessary projects that he needed to finish such as the ship that they’re planning to build on.

“We may need 12” x 12” lumber or larger pieces of timbers for the keel of the ship and numerous pairs of straight and curved timbers for its frames. Also—.”

“That earmuffs look good on you Ukyo-chan.” Gen sang and Ukyo stopped midway upon hearing the mentalist’s silky voice.

Senkuu immediately recognized that his mischievous undertones as bad news.

‘What the hell does this mentalist wants now?’ Senkuu inwardly grumbled as he kept his nonchalant expression on his face while he continued checking the contents of his flask for the experiment he was working on.

“Ah, thank you Gen.” Ukyo smiled amiably at him.

“Have you requested it from Senku-chan?” He asked innocently.

“No. He gave it to me willingly.”

“Oh.” Gen’s mouth formed an “o” expression and Senkuu wanted to smack off the smug expression on his face.

“Oi. Maybe if you focus on your assigned task instead of wasting your time here with idle chat that would’ve been more productive of you.” Senkuu deadpanned.

“Don’t be such an uptight spoilsport Senku-chan! Besides this is also part of our work since we’re getting to know our co-workers better through work socializing!” Gen shot him a Cheshire grin and Senkuu already smelled his bullshit just a million miles away from here. If this is any other day, he would’ve tolerated it and probably chimed in with his devious plans but since his teasing was even more or less directed towards them, to him specifically, it made him exacerbated.

“Lady luck must be smiling for you Ukyo-chan since Senkuu-chan usually takes in a request with getting something in return but not doing a voluntary philanthropic work.” Gen remarked in a sing song voice.

“Ah, it must be for practical purposes since my hearing sensitivity can affect my work in the future if it’s leave unattended. I’m sure that’s what Senkuu has in mind when he made them for me.” Ukyo held an adorable yet awkward smile on his lips, not getting the hint behind Gen’s words and teasing.

Ah, what a stark contrast to his usual sharp and complex nature. He can be maladroit towards a simple jive about him sometimes.

“Oi Gen. I’m still here.” A tick mark formed on Senkuu’s forehead.

Gen chuckled lowly and was about to respond when Kaseki dashed inside his laboratory and tugged on the collar of the mentalist much to his chagrin.

“I’ll be needing your assistance again young lad! Help me out on the recent structure that Senkuu has trusted me to work on!” Kaseki was now dragging Gen outside the laboratory.

“But you have Chrome with you now! And I still need to do something else!” Gen cried and sporting a devastated yet comical expression on his face.

“It seems like Kaseki is quite fond of Gen.” Ukyo’s eyes danced in amusement as he watched Gen was being dragged away by Kaseki outside the lab.

Senkuu scoffed. “More like Gen is being turned into his own assistant now since he doesn’t have any heavy workload every day.” He placed the flask back to its spot after studying it.

For a moment, silence hung in the air with the only occasional tinkering sounds coming from Senkuu’s side since he was experimenting on something.

“Senkuu.”

Ukyo’s tranquil voice made him glance back at the archer. “What? Do you need—” He stopped midway as he stared at the wide mouth transparent bottle with a miniature display of a moon inside. He was pleasantly surprised at the object that was sitting right in front of him.

“That’s for you.” Ukyo replied simply.

What? How? Why? These are the three questions that raced inside the scientist’s head before he gazed back at the archer who seemed unruffled by his initial reaction and was sporting one of his enigmatic smiles once again.

“What is this?” He found his voice at last.

“It’s a scaled down moon inside a transparent bottle.” Ukyo answered easily.

“I know what it is.” Senkuu deadpanned. “But what I wanted to know is why are you giving this to me? Is there something that you need from me in return?” He arched a brow.

Ukyo laughed, emitting a rich, vibrant and warm tones from his throat. It made Senkuu annoyed and entranced at the same time since it’s rare for him to hear him laughed genuinely like that.

“There is no other hidden reason Senkuu except that I just want to.” He tilted his head to the side. “I’m not sure of what other uses that you can do with it except for display purposes but I know with your brilliant mind you will utilize it in the future for your scientific endeavors.” Ukyo added warmly.

Senkuu just stared at him intently, his vermilion irises boring into his soul as if deciphering the genuineness of his words.

He chortled afterwards. “If this is your way of saying thank you to me because of the earmuffs then you really have a shred of romantic idealist within you. Like I said, I’m not the type of person you should be saying some thank you for.”

Ukyo shook his head idly. “Ah, you’re mistaking me again as like that. As I’ve told you previously I’m nothing but a coward. But after witnessing you and achieving your humanistic goals through the help of science, it made me think that it’s not quite too late. For me at least.”

A soft grin made its way to his face. “You’re such a sap sonar man. Get back to the others and help them in building that ship so that we can march on forward.”

“Of course.” Ukyo beamed at him before he bid him a quick goodbye and left.

A fond exasperation crossed the scientist’s features. When he was on the verge of finally figuring him out, another layer of his character was exposed to him that shrouded him in inscrutability. But maybe that’s how Ukyo was.

Nevertheless, he won’t get tired of peeling them away to know the intriguing truth behind his cryptic smiles and pleasant tones.

He was a man of science after all.

How exhilarating.

(A/N: I don't own any of the characters from this franchise. This was inspired by that negotiation scene of Senkuu & Ukyo in episode 7 of season 2. I was supposed to make a Senhaku oneshot but lo and behold that infamous phone conversation between Ukyo and Senku has sparked some interest and inspiration from my shipping heart. It’s filled with a little bit of a tension and intrigue from both parties. Also, Ukyo is one of the most beautiful characters in the show and he has a sexy voice. Usen is a rarepair but I’m still boarding on this ship. I'm a bit late into this fandom but sharing this story anyway. Apologies in advance for any grammatical errors as English is not my native language and if the characters are OOC. I tried my best to capture their characters similarly in the show.)

#dr stone #senku ishigami #ukyo saionji #senku x ukyo #usen if you squint #rarepairings #i wrote this instead of sleeping #i will go down with this ship #curious science man #mysterious sexy archer

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finneve · 4 years

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Dreamland- part 1

Summary- after being convinced to visit a 1940s’ themed night, Steve Rogers falls in love with one of the performers. but jealous rears its head when he sees Bucky there one night.

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He had wanted to go back, return to what he knew. Finally, to be with the woman he loved. But as he stood on the street where Peggy lived and watched her embrace with her husband, Steve Rogers knew, this time truly held nothing for him anymore. Steve knew he could never live with himself if he were to ruin a happy marriage.

So, he returned to the future, his future. The warm embrace of friends and to the world he had helped save so many times over. Though, he didn’t miss the questioning look he got from Bucky when he had reappeared on the time travel platform only mere seconds after his departure. Bucky had been surprised to see him again at the lakeside.

“What happened?” he asked later when the pair were sharing a drink back at the compound. “Ah, she was happy and in love with someone else,” Steve admitted. “she got married,” Leaning back Bucky let out a low whistle.

“Sorry man,”

“Don’t worry about it,” Steve half laughed. Perhaps it was a silly dream to begin with, to think he would be able to go back and slot perfectly back into Peggy’s life. Buck didn’t press any further for more information and for that, Steve was relieved.

Steve resigned himself now to a quieter life. The mantle of Captain America passed onto Sam. In all, Steve was glad to be rid of it. The pressure to constantly uphold truth, honour and justice was a burden lifted from his shoulders, when he gave Sam that shield. While he had been sad to part with it, he knew Sam was the best man for the job. He would still help the team of course, but from more of a logistics point of view. Finally, he was free, but to do what exactly?

Suggestions were made, some jokes at his expense. About the need to get laid or find a hobby. Like collecting fast cars or various properties, like some weird dragon’s hoard. While the idea of driving a nice car did appeal to him, Steve couldn’t see the logic in owning multiples of anything.

“Man, maybe spend some of that money you got stockpiled,” Tony had decried one day. The man had been trying to convince to get into vintage luxury cars, or even some that they could race around a track and waste time and money on.

“That bank account would be looking very healthy these days,” Sam joked, “all that interest from 1945, you’d be a rich man even without stark’s money,”

“Yeah I guess,”

Steve didn’t like the idea of spending money just cause he could. A childhood of being told to save every penny and the depression era combined did wonders for his spend-thrift attitude. No, that money would stay in the bank for now.

It had been Natasha that made a more reasonable recommendation.

“Hey,” she called after him. They had just stepped out of a meeting. Slowing down, Steve allowed her to fall into step beside him.

“Look there’s a place in the city that might help with your nostalgia blues,”

“What the museum?” Steve scoffed. The blond man scratched at his chin in slight annoyance. Not that he didn’t like the museum, but he was sick of seeing that memorial to him as Captain America. While it had been aimed at informing the public about the heroics of him, the Howling Commandos and their wartime exploits, now it just felt empty. Littered with half-truths and faces long gone from this world. It had become an unwanted reminder of what he had lost all those years ago when he was frozen in the ice. Steve knew Bucky too had mixed feelings about it, as it still said that he was dead.

“No, idiot,” though she insulted him, Natasha grinned.

“A club downtown, I think it would be your vibe,”

“What’s the point if I can’t get drunk?”

“The general aesthetic,” the woman just shook her head at him. Snatching up his phone she set about putting her plan in motion.

“There, I put in the address to your phone, it’s a good place for a drink and to relax,” and with a wink the former assassin spun on her heel and strutted away. But the thought of going to some dive bar to get his rocks off was just so unappealing. No there is no way he could go.

However, in the quiet of the night, nightmares haunted his sleep. The flashbacks of Bucky falling from that train, the horrors of wartime Europe, having to say goodbye to Peggy before hurdling into the icy Atlantic, it all swirled through his mind. The replay of falling to stop Thanos, losing Buck again, it made he want to avoid sleep. In in those moments after he wakes in fear that, he pulls up the address of the club on his phone. “Dreamland”, the clubs’ name seemed very poignant right now, giving his troubles with actually sleeping. What could be the harm in checking it out at least once? Rubbing at his eyes Steve shakes the enticement from his head.

But still, he puts it off. Going to the place Nat had suggested. Not wanting to give in to the temptation of nostalgia. Still the nightmares persist. Every night he wakes in cold sweat, showers and proceeds to walk the somewhat quiet streets. Something to keep the nightmares at bay. He wandered more and more.

Again, he looks at the address. Hmm only a street away, he thought pensively. Maybe a quick look and a drink wouldn’t hurt. At least then when Natasha questions him over it, he can say it just didn’t work. But as he stood before it, suddenly the pieces fell into place. At the top of the arch, a bright neon sign. In cheery pink, the word “Dreamland” glowed.

A cabaret club?

“You’ve got to be joking Nat,” Steve voiced his thoughts. Loud enough for an older woman hurrying past to give him a quizzical stare. A burly bouncer sat aside the door. The mountain of a man looked Steve up and down.

“The show’s nearly over pal,”

Steve just shrugged. Even only a few moments of respite would be heaven-sent. He paid the admission and finally entered the club. Down the rabbit hole of a corridor. Soft coloured lights shimmered off the wall as he moved further in. The clamour of the club carried out to his ears.

A decent sized room opened before him. Steve rubbed at his eyes, a wave of shock creeping over. Nat had been right, of course. This unassuming place appeared to be an almost exact replica of old club from the 40s’. Art deco stylings had been made. Soft warm lights illuminated the space well. What looked to be a fully stocked bar crowded much of the back wall. Waitresses dressed like cigarette girls bustled around taking drink orders and selling other items, like candy or chewing gum. From the stage the swinging, soulful notes of jazz reverberated around the room. A real jazz band rather than music that was blared over a speaker system. A nice touch, he thought as he slid up against the dark wood bar.

“What can I get you honey?” the barmaid’s toothy smile was sweet enough.

“Ah, just a beer, does matter which,” he shrugged, setting down enough bills to pay for said beer.

“sure thing,”

Upon its arrival, Steve took a swig of the beer. He nodded his thanks. Maybe he should have brought Bucky, he would have gotten a kick out of seeing this club done up like it was 1941. The music had kicked up as two dancing girls pranced around the stage, to a cheery jazz tune. Though Steve wasn’t sure of the actual song. They were a pretty sight. Big smiles and glimmering eyes shone brighter still as they twirled and danced their set. Their red costumes dazzled and gleamed up under the bright stage lights.

Taking the empty table, Steve sipped at the beer. Argh, the craft beer was not worth the price. But he sipped again, after he had just paid ten dollars for it, even though the alcohol won’t affect him. The beer in his hand would not make him feel so out of place amongst the other patrons.

As he sat, nursing the beer, Steve allowed himself to glance around the room. Nat had been right. This place truly felt as if it had been plucked straight out of time and thrown back down, unchanged, untouched in the last 70 years. How easily this could have felt like cheap imitation. Unnoticed by the modern eye but The art deco stylings on the wall continued around the whole bar. Plush velvet booths had been pushed back against the walls and set with a singular soft light. The rest of the open space before the stage was scatted with tables and chairs, creating an almost amphitheatre around the performance space.

Even a thin haze of smoke emanated around the space, giving off that dreamlike quality to it all. Briefly he wondered where the smoke came from, as Steve was positive you could no longer smoke cigarettes indoors. A machine perhaps. His best friend would enjoy this, a brief glimpse back in time. Bucky would utterly indulge in the spectacle, drink in the ambience of it all. Be glad to be reminded of the times before they shipped off to the war, until memories of what happened after plagued him once more.

His fingers picked at the label on the beer. A minor way of venting frustrations that really didn’t alleviate anything of the feelings Steve had swirling around his mind. But he sipped at the beer once more. He might as well stay until closing and then continue with his insomniac walking.

The final notes of music played out, as the girls dipped into a bow. A table of men down the front whooped and cheered for the pair as a smattering of polite applause rippled out from those closest to the stage. Steve took another swig of the beer. He allowed himself to wonder what the next act would be, if it too would be a poor attempt to capture past nostalgia. The din of the other patrons rambled and pitched the time between the acts came to an end.

The red lighting altered, filling the room with a cool blue hue. Soft tones of a piano filled the air as the crowd fell into a collective hush. Even the rowdy men at the front table had fallen into hushed whispers. Looking back at the stage, he wondered what act would get such a reaction from the gathered crowd.

As if out of thin air, there she appeared, alone on the stage. Agape, Steve barely heard the announcer call her name. he couldn’t help but stare at the vision before him. Soft hair perfectly coiffed and curled, soft plump lips painted a deep red. Clearly an effort to make her into a siren of the 1940s had been made.

Slowly the piano was joined by a mellow tune of a trumpet and string instruments harmonise along. Slowly as the music warms up the woman on stage began to sing. Unexpectedly Steve can’t tear his eyes away. The sweet dulcet tones that spilt from her, struck him to the core. He couldn’t move; but sit transfixed on 1940’s dream. On how the silk of her dress fell over her hips, how soft and inviting her skin seemed to be as it shone under the bright stage light. Through the steady beams of light, the soft material appeared almost see-through. It made her look otherworldly and gorgeous. Delicate in a certain unspoken way and to Steve’s utter shock, it stirs him.

She glides over the stage, floating like an ethereal being. Steve leans forward, gaze fixed on this utter vision. Her tour of the stage stops almost directly in front of him. A smirk graces her features. Her eyes piercing as if into his very soul, making him come undone with just a look. Her hips bopped to the soft melody, as she twirled back to the piano.

Her own gaze didn’t waver or falter, even splayed out over the piano. She eyes him with subtle curiosity. Still that smile beamed off her. Her form pushed off the piano, allowing her to take centre stage once more. The final beats of the melody rung out from the band as her fingers grazed over the mic stand.

“Dream a little dream of me,”

As her song finishes and her voice cooed the last few notes, she eyes him again and with a sly wink, she smiled. To an eruption of applause, the vixen did bow. Before exiting, her eyes scan over the room before seeming to land on him. Even from his seat, Steve could see they were the most brilliant shade of (y/e/c). A wink, a smile. She bounced with a girlish grin before disappearing off the stage. An eruption of applause still followed her.

Dumbstruck, Steve still stared after her, to the place where she had vanished from sight. Instantly his mind was racing. As his eyes darted around the bar, a million questions seem to flood his brain, all clamouring to make it impossible to answer a single one. Who was that singer? Why had it taken nearly a decade to hear about this place? Had he been under some rock since waking from the ice? What was her name? My, how that was an important question. Steve had to know her name. Oh, how he wanted her all for his own.

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soyforramen · 4 years

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BHDC - Toni

Betty knocked on the door of a trendy townhouse in the middle of downtown. It was a quaint, clapboard house surrounded by a lush garden filled with vegetables, herbs, and a few rare poisonous plants that caught her eye. These were not, as Jughead put it, mere ‘acquaintances’. She filled the information away for later questioning when the door opened and a petite woman opened the door.

“Hello, Jughead,” the woman said, a smile playing at her lips.

So this was Toni, the vampire friend. She was gorgeous, Betty realized, in a biker don’t-mess-with-me sort of way. Toni’s clothes matched Jughead’s aloof, messy style. Purposeful thrifting, in a way. Betty suddenly felt as if she’d tried to hard in selecting her outfit this morning, the pastel cardigan and boat shoes far too cutesy to fit into this crowd. She quickly shoved that thought aside. There were more important things than her own insecurities (insecure about what? Toni? Betty didn’t even know her; but Jughead did …). Shaking the thought out of her head, Betty introduced herself.

Toni gave her a polite nod, ignoring the outstretched hand, and lead them into the ornate home. The foyer was filled with artwork from around the world. Mayan sculptures that were weathered by hundreds of years of sunlight and rain; large French impressionist paintings of the Riviera, the paint yellowing with time; antique Japanese block prints from feudal eras long gone by; Yoruba court masks decorated with metal birds and glittering jewels. It was an intimidating show that was more at home in a Bond villain’s lair. Here, in a cozy modern home, it was a braggadocios display of what the gift of immortality could give, if one did it right.

They made their way down a short hallway, the rest of the house was well lit despite the late hour, crowded with antique furniture and dark wallpaper. Gaslit sconces lit their way and Betty couldn’t help but wonder if there was an old lover trapped in the attic. She quickened her step, her hand reaching out to grasp Jughead’s jacket. When she remembered how flippant he’d been with her earlier, Betty dropped her hand back to her side.

“Babe?” Toni called out when they reached the end of the hallway. “Jughead’s here.”

“Joy,” came a flippant response.

Betty stepped into a fully stocked industrial kitchen. (Could vampires even eat? Common knowledge told her no, but if that was the case why have a kitchen that had fresh fruit on the counter, spices in a rack, and dry goods artfully placed around the room? Surely it wouldn’t just be for looks?) A redheaded stepped in from the open patio door. Jughead shot her a warning glance and Betty stifled her sudden irritation.

Accusations against the Vixen’s Den bartender, the one who’d rebuffed their questions and sent them those drinks that night, flooded Betty’s mind. Why had she done that? Was she a part of whatever conspiracy was going on? Was she merely an agent of chaos, as Jughead had described her? But asking would likely do no good here, especially when she held information they so desperately needed.

“Cheryl,” Jughead said through gritted teeth.

“Hobo.” Cheryl didn’t so much as look towards Betty.

Jughead’s hands clenched and Betty realized they were standing on thin ice; between Jughead’s quick temper and Cheryl’s lack of interest this would be a quick meeting if things didn’t settle down.

“Thank you for seeing us,” Betty said with her brightest smile. She took a seat at kitchen island and dug out her notepad. She’d dealt with this sort of person before; flattery and sickly sweet attention would do far better than demanding answers. With her pen poised, Betty devoted her full attention to Cheryl. “Jughead mentioned you were one of the best sources of information when it came to the underground.”

Preening under the false compliment, Cheryl gave a coy smile. Everyone in the room knew it was a lie, but the admissions was enough to pull her out of her prickly shell.

“Is that so?” Cheryl shook her hair out, a sheen to it that could only be achieved by a mix of magic and chemistry, and settled into the bar stool next to Betty. “Toni’s told me so much about your little exploits. Cheryl Blossom.”

Betty took the limp, downturned hand. Did she really expect her to grovel? This bitch…

“I’m afraid you have the upper hand here. I know so little about you,” Betty replied. Before Cheryl could realize she’d sidestepped introductions, Betty flipped to an open page in her notebook. “Toni mentioned you were at The Woods a few weeks ago?”

Cheryl sighed theatrically and picked up an apple. “Poor Josie. Is she still missing?”

‘Josie?’ Betty mouthed at Jughead.

He rolled his eyes. “Yes, Cheryl. She’s still missing, along with-“

Cheryl waved her hand at him and tutted. “Your loss is no bigger than mine, Forsythe, and you’d do well to remember that.”

Jughead’s lip curled as he pushed himself off the counter and Betty jumped in quickly before they lost the only lead they had.

“She went missing?”

“Yes. It was their 50th Anniversary blowout. Val and Melody -“

“Her bandmates,” Toni added.

“-saw her before the show, but after they left the dressing room she was never seen again.”

Betty tapped her pen against her lips. “Did they notice anyone hanging about? Strangers, someone who seemed out of place?”

Cheryl shook her head. “Not that they mentioned.”

“Did you got to her dressing room?”

Cheryl’s eyes narrowed. “If you’re implying -“

“Quit,” Jughead snapped. “She’s trying to help.”

Toni raised her eyebrows in surprise. A surprised reaction, but why? He and Cheryl were at odds, and from what Betty had seen it wasn’t out of the ordinary. And from Cheryl’s smirk, it seemed as if she’d been trying to bait him all along. Unless…

“We were in the audience,” Toni said in the lengthening silence. “A lot of the underground was there, it would have been weird if we didn’t make an appearance. The lighting is never the best there, but I didn’t notice anything unusual.”

“What about the fae?” Betty asked as she flipped through the last few pages of notes. “Were they -“

“They weren’t involved,” Cheryl said quickly. “I would know if they were.”

Betty jotted the assertion down. This was the third person - Veronica, Reggie, and now Cheryl - who’d insisted they weren’t involved. Strange, considering the rumors that were swirling through the covens. Rumors that the fae had shut their doors against all but the most select of persons, along with a few who’d been taken against their will.

“There were a few humans, though,” Tonia said after a moment. “Sweets had to take Fangs home early for a nightcap. He didn’t think Pops would let in humans that night considering it was The Cats playing.”

“I was surprised myself,” Cheryl added.

She slipped her hand through Toni’s and toyed with the ring on her finger, gaze directed at Jughead. He shook his head and shifted against the counter, his hip bumping up against Betty’s arm. Her words skipped across the page and she elbowed him playfully in response.

“There are rules, after all, about letting humans into underground spaces like that. Especially when The Pussycats have been playing together for over five hundred years. They might get ideas.”

“I thought you said it was their 50th Anniversary?” Betty asked, hoping it was a crack in their story that might lead to something, anything that could give them some direction.

“Yes, their 50th Anniversary playing at The Woods. Pop got an exclusive contract with them in the 70’s. They’ve been playing together since at least Jericho, probably even earlier,” Cheryl said.

“What about the humans?” Betty asked, sure they were chasing their tails on this one. “Who was letting them in?”

“Perhaps you should ask Pop, or that weirdo DJ of his. Dorkus, or whatever his name is.”

“We did,” Jughead said shortly. “He’s the one who sent us to Fangs and Toni. He also mentioned that you’d been lurking around backstage before the concert.”

Toni stepped away from Cheryl to stare at her. Cheryl’s hand tightened and her smile turned chilly.

“Can I not deliver a gift to my best friend of three thousand years?”

“A gift? Funny, I wouldn’t call the pig’s heart they found in the dressing room a gift.”

Cheryl scoffed. “It is if you’re a demi-god who moonlights as a cat.”

“Babe,” Toni chided softly. There was a painful question in her eyes and Betty found herself looking away from the private moment.

“Later,” Cheryl promised, her gaze soft. It hardened as she turned back to their guests. “As for you two, I’d be more concerned about the bald, chanting, idiots in white. Anyone who wears all white this far past Labor Day is super suss if you ask me.”

“Is there anything else you can tell us about these humans or…”

Betty trailed off. Humans? That was her answer? For Cheryl to claim humans had infiltrated the underground, let alone suspect them of kidnapping a demi-god, let alone a witch and a were? It was unthinkable.

“All I know is they were in desperate need of a spa treatment and a makeover,” Cheryl said with a curled lip. “They even had the nerve to suggest I was one of the ignorant masses who needed their enlightenment.”

Jughead shot Betty an exasperated look and she bit down a smile. He’d been against meeting with Cheryl from the state - his ranting about her for the thirty minute journey to the townhouse a clear signal that there was some unspoken history there - but Betty had persisted. As unlikely a lead as humans were, it was more than they’d had this morning.

“What about -“

Betty was cut off as the patio windows blew in, glass and plant debris propelled at them by searing air. As Betty was just beginning to process what happened, she found herself at the front door, tucked into Jughead’s arms. Behind him Toni held Cheryl carefully in her arms.

“Stay here,” she told Cheryl, her fangs already out.

Jughead set Betty down, pausing only to brush glass from her ponytail, and was gone before Betty could take a breath.

“What the hell?” Betty asked breathlessly. She stepped towards the kitchen and winced at the sudden pain. A large piece of glass had cut through her cardigan to her skin. Blood stained the light pink fabric and Betty cursed at the sight.

“Whatever it was, they’re going to wish they were in hell when I’m done with them,” Cheryl snapped. “I just had that kitchen redone.”

She stalked towards the flames that were creeping into the hallway, fists curled in on themselves. Betty followed, pulling out a string of spell beads as she went.

#bughead drabble challenge #i am slowly getting through these #now the real question is what am i even going to do with the platypus???

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William Barr, Coronavirus, Harvey Weinstein: Your Friday Briefing

(Want to get this briefing by email? Here’s the sign-up.)

Good morning.

We’re covering Attorney General William Barr’s challenge to President Trump, the latest updates on the coronavirus outbreak, and good news in the fight against Australia’s wildfires.

‘Stop the tweeting,’ attorney general says

Attorney General William Barr said in an interview on Thursday that President Trump’s attacks on the Justice Department had made it “impossible for me to do my job,” adding, “I’m not going to be bullied or influenced by anybody.”

Mr. Trump has repeatedly criticized officials in the department and denounced a sentencing recommendation for his associate Roger Stone. Here’s a transcript of excerpts from Mr. Barr’s interview with ABC News.

Mr. Trump did not immediately respond on Twitter, but his press secretary, Stephanie Grisham, said, “The president wasn’t bothered by the comments at all.” The attorney general had let the president know some of what he planned to say and is remaining in his job, a person familiar with the events told The Times.

Another angle: Critics of Mr. Barr dismissed his comments as mainly a way to deflect responsibility for carrying out Mr. Trump’s political wishes. “The tell here will be Trump’s reaction,” said Joe Lockhart, a White House press secretary under former President Bill Clinton. “If he doesn’t lash out, we’ll all know this was pure political theater.”

More than 1,700 medical workers infected in China

The Chinese authorities disclosed for the first time today that 1,716 medical workers had contracted the coronavirus and that six had died. The number of infected workers represents 3.8 percent of China’s overall confirmed infections. Here are the latest updates and maps of where the virus has spread.

A look at Pete Buttigieg’s time as mayor

The experience that he gained as the leader of South Bend, Ind., is a central part of Mr. Buttigieg’s pitch to be president, while his rivals try to sow doubts about whether he is prepared for the Oval Office.

His record in trying to turn the Midwestern city around has also been challenged by some residents and activists, particularly on problems facing black residents.

Our correspondent traveled to South Bend to learn more about how Mr. Buttigieg, 38, governed and grew over his eight years in office.

Yesterday: Elizabeth Warren criticized Michael Bloomberg after video emerged of a lecture he gave 12 years ago in which he linked the 2008 financial crisis to the end of a discriminatory housing practice.

Dueling misjudgments by the U.S. and Iran

A nine-month period that shook up the already tense relationship between the two countries began with the Trump administration’s escalation of sanctions and ended with Washington and Tehran in a direct military confrontation.

A team of our reporters has traced the path to last month’s violent standoff, finding a story of miscalculations by both sides.

Yesterday: The Senate voted to require that President Trump seek congressional authorization before taking further military action against Iran, a mostly symbolic measure that lacked the support needed to override a promised veto.

If you have 20 minutes, this is worth it

A glimpse of the coastal future

An estimated 600 million people worldwide live on coastlines — hazardous places in an era of climate change. The Times examined how two metropolitan areas, Manila, above left, and San Francisco, are handling rising sea levels.

Will they try to hold back the waters or move people away? Their decisions could offer crucial lessons for coastal cities around the world.

Here’s what else is happening

Billions diverted for wall: The Pentagon said it would devote $3.8 billion that Congress had designated for other purposes to building a wall at the southwestern border.

Harvey Weinstein’s defense: A lawyer for the former Hollywood producer told jurors at his rape trial that he was the victim of an “overzealous prosecution” and that his accusers had engaged in consensual relationships with him.

Australian fires controlled: The wildfires that began in September and consumed millions of acres are finally out in most of New South Wales, Australia’s most populous state, emergency services said today.

The Weekly: The latest episode of The Times’s TV show is about the police crackdown on protesters at a university in Hong Kong last year. It premieres today on FX at 10 p.m. Eastern and will be available on Hulu starting Saturday.

Snapshot: Above, the German city of Dresden in 1945, the year it was bombed by the Allies. On Thursday, Germans commemorated the 75th anniversary of the devastating attack, which a resurgent far right has used to promote a revisionist history of World War II.

News quiz: Did you follow the headlines this week? Test yourself.

Modern Love: In this week’s column, how a woman’s worst date became her best one.

Late-night comedy: The hosts watched as President Trump and Michael Bloomberg traded insults. “This is crazy,” Trevor Noah said. “Two mega-rich dudes dissing each other in the most personal way. It would be like if a rap battle was on CNBC.”

What we’re listening to: This episode of “The New Yorker Radio Hour.” Sam Sifton, our food editor, writes: “I enjoyed listening to Hilton Als talk about Louis C.K.’s return to the stage, and about how it might have gone differently, had Louis attempted art and not commerce.”

Now, a break from the news

Cook: Take time this weekend for stuffed shells.

See: Two paintings of Napoleon, one wearing Timberlands, are on display at the Brooklyn Museum. It’s a face-off between two visions of the political power of art, our critic Jason Farago writes.

Read: In honor of Valentine’s Day, we’ve listed works of fiction from each of the 50 states that explore matters of the heart.

Smarter Living: There are good ways and bad ways for colleagues with different circadian rhythms to work together. Here are some tips.

And now for the Back Story on …

Reporting on the coronavirus

Donald McNeil, a science reporter for The Times, is part of a team covering the spread of the virus. This is a condensed version of a conversation about his observations and concerns.

What do we know, and what don’t we know, about the coronavirus?

In the beginning of every epidemic, there is the fog of war.

I’d say we’re still in that fog. We know this virus is much more transmissible than SARS or MERS. We don’t know if it’s quite as transmissible as the flu. We know it can kill people. We know it’s not nearly as lethal as MERS or SARS.

One of the things we don’t know is what the Chinese aren’t saying. We know that they’re reluctant to let in outside experts and wouldn’t share samples of the earliest cases with the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.

When you ask scientists, “What’s your fear for the Big One, the pandemic that’s going to kill us all?” — not that there is a pandemic that’s going to kill us all — but if you ask them that, they say, “Flu.” They worry about some new flu, bird flu or swine flu, that’s highly lethal but becomes very transmissible between humans. I know only one or two scientists who have said, “You know, I also worry about coronaviruses being the Big One.”

I don’t want to raise alarm that this is the Big One. But this is a new, scary and confusing one, and we don’t yet know how far it’s going to spread and how many people it’s going to kill.

What do you think about the public’s reaction to your reporting?

I’m always trying to figure out: Am I being alarmist, or am I not being alarmist enough? I was too alarmist about H5N1 back in 2005, the bird flu. I was not alarmist enough about West Africa and Ebola in its early days. All previous Ebola outbreaks had killed a few hundred people. That one killed 11,000.

A big part of my beat is debunking the panicky stories. It actually consumes almost as much of my time as reporting does.

I try to spread truth instead of panic, even if it takes me a little longer to get it right.

That’s it for this briefing. See you next time.

— Chris

Thank you Mark Josephson and Kathleen Massara provided the break from the news. Alex Traub wrote today’s Back Story. You can reach the team at [email protected].

P.S. • We’re listening to “The Daily.” Today’s episode is about the post-impeachment President Trump. • Here’s today’s Mini Crossword, and a clue: Facebook reaction button symbolized by a heart (four letters). You can find all our puzzles here. • The Visual Investigations team at The Times will be answering questions, live and on-camera, today at 10 a.m. Eastern.

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