Chapter 9: The Wasteland

“You’ll give us how much?” The incredulity in Riffraff’s tone was matched only by his shocked features, jaw dropped wide open as disbelieving eyes stared at the stiffly dressed unicorn gingerly lifting the tambourine with telekinesis.

The two pegasi had little difficulty finding the city’s largest museum the next morning – it was not specifically an art museum, but rather featured displays of all varieties and eras. There were modern sculptures, ancient pottery and several exhibits with pieces from every era in between. Upon showing the gleaming instrument to one of the receptionists at the help desk, they’d been escorted by the excited mare directly to the assistant curator’s office. The lanky, well-dressed unicorn happened to be a specialist in pre-Equestrian artifacts and seemed infinitely more interested in the origin and age of the tambourine rather than the fact it was covered with enough gemstones to sate even the hungriest dragon’s appetite for a day or so. The grey and white dappled stallion now examined the instrument through an inspection loupe, one eye closed as the other squinted through the magnified lens. “Magnificent,” he breathed, leaning in closer and tilting his head up slightly so the aura-covered instrument floated a bit higher into the light. “Absolutely astonishing...this must be from before unification, perhaps even before Celestia herself walked the earth...”

Graceful tilted his head, gently pushing his companion’s still-gaping jaw closed with one hoof. “Ummm, but like...aren’t tambourines not-ancient instruments? We never see ponies usin’ them in those old-old paintings and stuff.”

“That is because most Renaissance-era paintings contained only the subject manner their creators deemed ‘worthy’ of capture,” the unicorn replied in a surly tone, though his attitude was obviously not directed at Graceful as much as it was to that particular area of Equestrian art history. “A group of pre-Equestrian ponies sitting around creating the first forms of music with simple percussion instruments would not have garnered the attention of those self-righteous bigots,” he added with a disdainful sniff. “What you have here, my friends, is extremely old and extremely rare.” His eyes lit up slightly as he set the loupe down and reached up a hoof to hesitantly grasp the tambourine out of the air. “I would be most excited to study it further, see what tests could be run to determine where it came from, and when it was crafted. The gemstones, of course, are dazzling and make any average pony today ooh and aah over it, but those few historical accounts and reliable research books on such ancient times suggest that gems and precious metals were but a form of artistic appreciation and decoration to those civilizations...and beyond that, a means to keep dragons from enjoying those poor denizens of old as snacks.” The unicorn laughed, surprising Riffraff out of his stupefaction as the suit-wearing stallion looked amused. “In fact, as much as we may want to label this as a musical artifact, I would not be surprised to discover that it had been used as a throwable lure to distract the occasional wandering dragon.”

Graceful Melody giggled and hopped from side to side. “Then that’s gotta be the most expensive frisbee in the world!”

“Quite so,” the unicorn replied with a chuckle. “Regardless. I will need the blessing of the head curator, of course, but seeing as the Pre-Equestrian Culture exhibit that I have headed up has been attracting considerable attention as of late, it should not be overly difficult. Once I have received his approval, the museum will be prepared to offer you a lump sum of seven hundred thousand bits.”

Riffraff’s jaw dropped again and Graceful once again gave a bright laugh, flapping his wings several times and leaping into the air to fly around in a tight circle as the unicorn looked on, showing a mix of amusement and fear for the valuable artifacts strewn about his office. “Holy crab-apples, Riff, that’s enough to BUY a hotel!” the smaller male crowed excitedly, doing a neat backwards loop before landing primly next to the crimson stallion once again. “I’ve never even SEEN that much cash!”

“Well, it will be paid by form of a check,” the unicorn replied mildly, carefully setting the tambourine down upon his desk and then walking around to the back of it to quickly flip through a rolodex. “I’ll give Mr. Links a call, though he may be in a meeting. I’ll probably need a day or so to discuss the matter with him.” He glanced across at the two pegasi; Riffraff was still standing in stunned silence while Graceful was giggling and clinging to the larger male’s neck. “Uh. He’ll want to know a few things, such as...how you came across this artifact, and of course if you are able to offer any sort of proof of authenticity.” He hesitated before adding carefully, “And I mean no offense, but. I have the feeling you two likely do not have any proof of authenticity.”

“A demon gave it to us!” Graceful announced brightly, nodding several times.

Riffraff blinked stupidly, then scowled down at his partner, shoving him gently. “You. Dumb. Uh.” He cleared his throat and looked up awkwardly at the confused assistant curator. “Sorry, he really doesn’t get along with his family. His grandfather was very...er...religious.” He paused and rubbed the back of his head lamely. “You aren’t...religious, are you? I had a bad experience last time I brought the subject up with an authority figure of Manehattan.”

“Horses of Heaven, no,” the unicorn snorted. “Nor am I any sort of authority figure. But I think I understand. Family heirloom or something your grandfather found?” he asked curiously, gazing intently at Graceful.

“Uhhhh, I guess an heirloom that he found?” came the slow response of the slim pegasus, his muzzle wrinkled in thought. “Yes. An heirloom he found. We didn’t steal it!”

The unicorn gave an amused smile, crossing his forelegs upon the desk. “I am not accusing either of you of theft, don’t worry. If you say it was passed onto you by your grandfather, the Demon, then so be it. Besides, an item of this worth would be reported as stolen, and no establishment is more inundated with information of thefts than museums. Should I find out it’s stolen, I will likely be a responsible citizen and report it to the local authorities.” He winked at them, a smile quirking at the side of his muzzle.

Riffraff was somewhat suspicious of the unicorn’s congeniality, taking a step forward as he picked up on something the other stallion had mentioned. “Wait...you said a day or so. Will you need to keep the tambourine here to show your boss?”

“It...would be best,” the dappled male replied delicately, tugging quietly on the cuffs of his suit jacket. “I know this is not something I may ask lightly, and I won’t keep you from taking it with you, should you desire. But it guarantees the best consideration for your payment, since often when ponies come in here with an artifact but do not leave it to be examined by the other curators and our research team...they are denied their contribution and subsequent reward.”

“Well that blows,” Riff mumbled, sitting back on his haunches and scratching a hoof into his styled mane before glancing at Graceful. “What do you think, Grace?”

The periwinkle stallion shrugged and beat his wings a few times. “He’s not gonna steal it. And a museum is probably safer than in our dumpy li’l motel room.” He tilted his head and met the unicorn’s inquisitive gaze. “You guys will really pay us that much for it? And you aren’t gonna run away with it? ‘Cause...we’ll find you if you do, and you probably won’t like what we do to you.” The sudden seriousness in the slender male’s voice made Riffraff turn his head slowly to stare at his companion morbidly. Across from them, the unicorn looked just as shocked, blinking a few times.

“Uh. Yes, I am ninety percent sure about that amount, and it will be no more than fifty-thousand less if anything. I’ve appraised both the historical and physical value of the artifact, and our labs will be able to confirm it, though I would say I know my way around pricing these sorts of things.” The unicorn smiled slightly, adding gently, “And...no, I will not steal your tambourine. That would be illegal, and it sounds like no one here wants to do anything against the law.”

“Yeah, let’s...avoid the police,” Riffraff said awkwardly. “We’ve already had one misunderstanding with the fine authorities of Manehattan. No, we aren’t criminals, I know how weird this has all become, but...I swear we aren’t bad ponies.”

“I’m a bad pony,” Graceful piped up cheerily. “You should see what I can do with a--”

“Uhhhh, yeah, why don’t you go ahead and keep that thing, get the approval of your folks, aaaand we’ll be back tomorrow?” Riffraff interjected quickly, holding a hoof out over his companion’s pierced muzzle, looking almost pleadingly at the confused unicorn.

The horned stallion cleared his throat, reaching out to carefully pick up the tambourine and then placing it gingerly into a safe behind his desk, closing the heavy door and spinning the combination lock afterward. “It is safe with me, I promise. I’ll have the curator look at it before he leaves today – you two can come by sometime tomorrow when you’re free, and we’ll sign all the paperwork and get you on your way, stress free – how does that sound?”

“It sounds perfect,” the blood-red pony replied with relief, nodding and exhaling slowly. He shook his head, then glared down at the innocently smiling pegasus at his side. “You’re gonna get us arrested again, doofus.” He looked up at the unicorn with a sheepish smile and waved quickly. “But uh, yeah. Thank you. We’ll be back tomorrow morning. C’mon, Gracie.”

The smaller male beamed and waved several times as well before flicking his tail and trotting demurely out of the office. Riffraff rolled his eyes, attempting to avoid focusing his gaze upon the swaying flank of the effeminate stallion before him. The unicorn smiled again from behind his desk, calling after them, “Until then, friends.”

When the pegasi reached the museum foyer, Riffraff paused a moment and then reached out to gently grab his companion’s messy tail. “Hey, since we’re already here...why don’t we take a look around? I know you probably think this is boring stuff, but...”

Graceful looked over his shoulder with a bright smile. “Boring? Nah! Well, maybe sometimes a little, but we can make it fun! Besides, you know all sortsa weird stuff from when you used to do your research, so you c’n probably teach me somethin’ neat about some of the old stuff here.” He laughed and spun around to push his nose against the larger stallion’s. “Aaaand maybe we can find some quiet corner and have a quickie behind a royal tapestry or something!”

“Wow. Wow, you would say that,” Riffraff mumbled, shaking his head slowly but nonetheless turning around and jerking his head toward one of the first exhibits. “But alright, let’s go check out what they got here. I used to love going to museums for school field trips, actually.”

“Were you a neeeerd?” Graceful asked with a giggle, prancing up to his partner’s side and bumping their hips together lightly. “I so can see that. Little dorky Riffy, champion of the junior debate team!” He winked up at the masculine pegasus, earning a sour glare.

“I hate you. And I can deny you your one weakness.”

“I can get it from other ponies!” Graceful nodded fervently before twisting around and waving brightly. “Hey, Dusey!”

Riffraff whipped around in shock before blinking and then groaning and dropping his head. “Grace, that’s a sculpture of a dragon.”

The slender male blinked as well, then unfurled his wings and quickly lifted himself from the polished floors to hover a few meters high, studying the massive clay statue curiously. “Weeeell, I guess so. He doesn’t look as sexy as Dusey, though it also doesn’t show his bits, just like Dusey!”

Riffraff cleared his throat loudly, giving an awkward smile to the trio of older ponies now hurriedly passing by. “Grace, you can’t say things like that in public!” he hissed, stamping a hoof in frustration. “We’re not in jail anymore!”

“That’s a shame,” Graceful sang out, letting himself lazily spiral back toward the floor as Riffraff began to walk forward again with a slight blush at the stares they were getting from other nearby patrons. “Jail was fun.”

“Yeah, right through us being the victims of police brutality,” Riffraff muttered, flicking an ear and keeping his head low as they moved into an exhibit featuring paintings from a more recent era. “Let’s make-believe that we’re normal ponies, just out for a walk through the museum. I’d really like just one day without getting horrified stares from everypony around us.”

His companion giggled as he gazed around, the multitude of framed paintings beginning to capture his attention. “Okie dokie, we can pretend that we’re normal, Riffy. Oooh, look!” He pointed excitedly to an old oil painting of a lush forest scene, several flowering trees framing a picturesque waterfall. “We should borrow it and spruce up our dinky li’l room for tonight!”

“That’s called stealing,” Riff replied brusquely, pausing nonetheless to look up at the rich colors. “We’re trying not to get arrested, remember?” He glanced to the side to catch the inevitable retort, but Graceful had somehow managed to wiggle his way into a large group of foals apparently on a field trip, gasping along with them as their chaperon told some embellished tale of painting behind her. Riff studied the piece, which featured a earth pony in armor standing proudly before a serene landscape, a broad grin on his muzzle. His chestnut hide bulged with well-detailed musculature and his mane appeared to be braided into multiple, tight locks...though when Riffraff peered more carefully, they looked almost like natural vines to him.

“And historians say that he was a mythical hero of many, many years ago, who traveled all of Equestria, helping all the troubled ponies he came across,” the pink and white earth pony explained, smiling down at her awestruck students before blinking as she noticed Graceful bunched between several foals. She frowned slightly, but his childishly gleeful expression apparently disarmed her enough to slowly finish: “But of course that is just a legend, because Princess Celestia has kept peace and harmony throughout all of Equestria as long as history has recorded. There is no need for ponies such as this stallion here in the painting.” She nodded and smiled warmly again as the foals all gazed up at her trustingly...then paused as Graceful gave her an accusing glare. “Um. Sir? This is...actually not a guided tour, this is a field tri--”

“Lady, I dunno what you heard, but...my coltfriend said that Celestia ain’t all as perfect as everyone says, an’ that she actually started that thing over in--” The slender pegasus was hurriedly cut off when the larger stallion rushed forward, wrapping a leg around his muzzle and blushing deeply.

“He’s. He’s. Sick, and. I need to take him home. To be given medicine,” Riffraff said loudly, pulling the squirming singer backward through the confused foals. He blinked when a chubby unicorn colt near him poked his leg several times.

“Uh, Mister? Are you two...”

“You shouldn’t be so nosy,” Riffraff interrupted quickly, hauling his companion easily onto his back and then trotting toward the entrance.

“Bye, kids!” Graceful called out cheerfully, waving from between Riffraff’s wings as he comfortably laid out along his partner’s spine. “Remember that it’s okay to be gay!”

“Oh gods,” Riff mumbled, nearly stumbling as he hurried toward the front of the museum, avoiding the all-too-familiar stares as he rushed out of the building before anypony could identify them to either museum security – which might jeopardize their reward for the tambourine – or the police department...which would definitely land them back in jail without another chance of being released. He was used to the feminine male’s behavior, but the potential consequences still always made him nervous. He knew they had been lucky to have a quick release, and the last thing he wanted was for an immature comment or action to bring the police force down upon their heads. “Graceful, we...might have to lay a bit lower than usual,” he cautioned, glancing around as they emerged upon the top of the marble steps leading to the museum’s entrance. “You know I wouldn’t ask that normally of you, but...”

As his voice faded out, the slender pegasus quieted, then hopped gently down from his back before lightly nuzzling the larger stallion’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Riff. You’re really worried about us ending up back there, aren’t you?”

“I guess, yeah.” He shrugged after a moment as they descended the stairs together. “It’s not like I’m afraid we wouldn’t be able to get out, or that Amdusias wouldn’t get us freed just for the sake of continuing to torture us. It’s more that...most of the best times we’ve ever had involved music, you know? We can’t do a lot of that in jail.”

Graceful nodded slowly, pausing near the bottom of the steps and then smiling across at his companion. “Okie doke, that is a good point. Hey, since we have the rest of the day, how ‘bout we go find that jazz place we keep meaning to look for?”

Giving a smile of his own, Riffraff glanced warmly back at the feminine pegasus. “Now that’s a good idea. We can go look around town, grab a bit of dinner, then just get through one more night in the motel before we get ourselves an upgrade -- how’s that sound?”

“It sounds like you’re too slow!” Graceful called over his shoulder with a laugh, sprinting forward and lunging into the air eagerly to spread his wings and swiftly rocket into the morning sky. His partner snorted amusedly, hopping off the ground as his own wings unfurled and flapped hard in pursuit of the gleeful stallion.

They spent nearly three hours wandering through the grungier side of Manehattan, both pegasi finding themselves engrossed with locating the elusive, possibly-non-existent, lounge. They’d drifted from one homely, self-owned shop to another, asking for clues from anypony that would stop to talk. However, many of the ponies in that particular side of the town seemed to hardly know a thing about the surrounding area -- many younger stallions and mares lived in the area, some attending the local college, but few of them spent any time in the decrepit neighborhoods other than to sleep and sometimes eat. And on the other hoof, many of the older residents were reluctant to talk much, eying the multiple piercings dotting Graceful’s features with suspicion and outright hostility.

As they exited the fourth pawn shop they’d visited that day, Riffraff grumbled and pulled his cigarettes out to light one up while plopping himself down on a nearby bench. “I dunno if this place is still around, or if it ever was, Gracie. Everypony we’ve met either doesn’t know what jazz is, or looks like they’re ready to string you up and accuse you of heresy and witchcraft.” He puffed quietly, making a face through the smoke billowing out through his nostrils.

His slim companion smiled and gazed about the area measuringly. “You give up too easy, Riffy. We just ain’t been askin’ the right ponies.” He nudged the scowling male with a tattooed foreleg, gesturing toward a gloomy alley a block or so down, where two ponies sat in tattered rags with a worn banjo and dinged trumpet in their hooves. “Let’s go ask them!”

Riffraff made a face and sighed, drawing slowly on the cigarette, a meditative expression on his muzzle. “They probably smell bad. Yes, I know, I know, we’ve practically been street musicians before a few times, though we never let ourselves get THAT bad.” He mumbled and tapped the ash from the smoldering cylinder before adding under his breath, “And they always want money. And we have almost nothing at all as of right now.”

“I could always pay them with sex!” Graceful offered in a sing-song voice as he began to prance across the street, nearly colliding with a furiously shouting earth pony hitched up to a massive wagon loaded with apples and all manner of apple-related fare.

“Y’all watch where you’re walkin’!” she hollered to his back, screwing up her muzzle and then continuing down the street with a mutter. Riffraff winced and waited for her to pass his bench before he quickly followed his companion. He’s like this...thing. That’s really...small and...annoying. Except he can sing and is good in bed. Whatever a thing like that would be called.

“...an’ so we’re lookin’ for it, so like...do you know where it is at all? We really wanna check it out, maybe do a few numbers of our own!” Riffraff approached as Grace finished his rapid-fire inquiries, looking apologetic for the slender male as the dark brown pegasus and dirty blond unicorn looked up at the two curiously. “So have ya heard of a place like that? An’ by the way, I think a banjo an’ a trumpet make a real neat pair! But you know what’d be even cooler, if you had a HARMONICA, too!” He giggled and reached out to grasp Riffraff’s less-than-pristine harmonica, the larger pegasus gritting his teeth as he felt a bolt of vertigo run through his system the moment the other male grabbed his impromptu phylactery. He stumbled forward in response, looking somewhat jarred as the smaller stallion added brightly, “Riffy, you’ll play with them, right?”

“Uhhh...” The blood-red pegasus blinked stupidly before clearing his throat and looking over the two presumably homeless ponies. “I...dunno, I don’t really know your guys’ style or anything...” he said lamely.

But the unicorn brightened visibly, his horn taking on a deep purple glow as the battered trumpet before him floated up from his lap. “Won’t be a problem, son,” the haggard pony rumbled, the three valves on his instrument flexing up and down rapidly.

At his side, the gaunt pegasus smiled and nodded slowly as he lifted the banjo to his chest before eyeballing the nearly-finished cigarette butt that Riffraff drew from. “Play ‘long with us for a spell. An’ lemme have one of them smokes, an’ we migh’ jus’ remember where that ol’ club’s gotten off to. She’s still around, res’ assured.”

Riffraff hesitated, but Graceful had already produced two cigarettes in a hoof, grinning cheerfully and passing them across to the bedraggled pegasus. Riff scowled childishly – he hadn't even felt his companion’s touch while Grace swiped the cigarettes from the pack tucked under his wing. He mumbled and sat down resolutely next to the banjoist, upon whose flank was the symbol of a half-full jug of liquid. He studied this for a moment, blushing when the other winged pony peered at him rather directly. “Uh...did you used to be...a juggist?”

“Naw, that there’s for moonshinin’. I was s’posed to take on my pa’s business way out’n Witterbrook, but I decided I din’ wanna spend m’whole life makin’ drink ‘n drinkin’ away what I made. That was how Pa wen’ out...ain’t wasn’t gonna be how I wen’ out, no sir.” He nodded once as he allowed Graceful to light the cigarette perched into his muzzle – Goddamn sneaky little bastard, he got out my freakin’ lighter, too? -- and gave a grateful smile before drawling, “Name’s Dribble. I know, I know, ain’t been easy growin’ up with that, but it’s how it was. ‘N this over here’s Louis. He used t’play with the Can’erlot Royal Band, but...they din’ like the way he did the things he did, so now here we are.” He nodded once, as if the explanation covered anything and everything Riff or Grace could possibly want to ask, then began to pick away at the banjo before either of the other pegasi could ask what the hell he’d just said.

Louis smiled and closed his eyes, using both hooves and horn to maneuver the brass instrument to his muzzle as he started a soft, muted melody in tune to Dribble’s easy plunking. Riffraff grimaced at the strange mix of sounds, though once he closed his eyes and let the music envelope him, he realized that these two ponies played from the soul – it wasn’t an instrumentation he’d necessarily choose for himself, but it was a form of drop-bucket blues that he had no problem quickly deciphering, mentally identifying the underlying chord progression. He began to tap a rear hoof quietly while Graceful beamed proudly and hopped around to start gathering the attention of any ponies who happened to be within several meters of the strange trio.

Riffraff lifted the silver harmonica to his lips when he heard the definable chorus section drop back into a sort of “verse”, playing softly at first as he refamiliarized himself with the limited range of the small instrument. Louis’s eyes remained closed but Dribble glanced at him through the haze of smoke clouding the air about him, nodding approvingly when the muscular pegasus increased his volume and found a comfortable tempo somewhere between the slow, easy plucking and the faster, smoother notes of the unicorn’s trumpet. At first it still sounded foreign to him, despite the fact that all three instruments had a place in the vast expanse of the blues universe. But as they continued, he could see and hear how easily Louis and Dribble played off of each other, the way each pony seemed to goad the other to make his part a bit faster, a bit trickier. Riff smiled around the harmonica, moving one hoof to the front to add a bit of flair by rhythmically muffling and cupping the different melodious bleats of the small instrument.

Graceful had snagged Louis’s dilapidated hat and was ushering the small crowd closer as he laughed merrily, dancing and twisting smoothly between the curious onlookers while holding the upturned hat out to encourage donations. Several ponies drew closer, some of them lower-class, some middle-class and even a few who appeared to come from the upper echelons of society. Some sat down and smiled while others laughed despite themselves at the nimble acrobatics of the slender pegasus flitting through the throng of observers, jingling the steadily-growing pile of change. When the first song ended, a good number of them stomped their hooves loudly and cheered for another tune, Graceful beaming and yelling for an encore himself.

Louis and Dribble looked genuinely surprised and glanced at each other for a moment before shrugging and quickly leading into another fast-paced number. Riffraff grinned, all too happy to continue with them as he reared back onto his hind legs and poured his heart into keeping up with the two skilled troubadours, staying behind their lead but finding himself given multiple opportunities to show off his own decent harmonica solos between the twanging riffs from the banjoist and the lengthy, soulful streams of perfectly interlocked melodies from Louis’s rich trumpeting.

Many of the ponies came and went, though the trio and their cheerful promoter kept a strong crowd for thirty minutes or so, catching the attention of anypony who passed and compelling a good number of them to remain locked into place, eyes and ears drawn with fascination at the spontaneous performance of the mismatched musicians. They played song after song, inventing the playlist as they went and on occasion taking a request from the crowd – they put a bluesy spin on a few popular tunes of the modern era, and the onlookers ate it up as they laughed and stomped along with the street performers' energetic display of talent.

Eventually the gathering began to thin, however, as lunch hour drew to a close and many of the audience members reluctantly tore themselves away to return to their respective places of business. Riffraff carefully brought his playing into a steady decrescendo, allowing the other two ponies to maintain the attention of the dispersing crowd as he sat back and let the harmonica drop to hang about his neck while watching the duo play with more than a hint of admiration in his gaze.

When only a hoof-full of ponies lingered, Louis and Dribble both slowed their playing, carrying the long, rollicking song into a natural coda kept their remaining onlookers entranced. It trailed out for nearly five more minutes, but they gradually tapered off into complete silence and those few still-present ponies stared in awe, struck dumb for a moment. One of them started to slowly clap her hooves together and the others followed with increasing enthusiasm. Louis smiled slightly as Dribble leaned back with a chuckle, lighting the second cigarette with Riffraff’s assistance. “Not bad, son, not bad at all,” he murmured, nodding once and then blinking when Graceful proudly trotted forward, cradling the hat against his chest with one foreleg. It was full quite literally to the brim and Louis dropped his jaw in disbelief when the slender male giggled and carefully set it down before the two musicians. “This is all for you guys! You put on a great show!” he proclaimed with a laugh, smiling at Riffraff and earning a warm expression in return.

“Whoa, whoa,” Louis rasped, rubbing slowly at his throat as his horn gently glowed, setting the horn aside. “You colts earned some of this, too. We’re just two washed-up hobos who are normally lucky to scrape up a few bits every day.”

“Nah, it’s all yours,” Riffraff added gently but insistently, nodding with a smile of his own. “We’ve...got somethin’ comin’ our way. Take it, get yourselves some real food or somethin’.” He paused, then scratched awkwardly at his mane. “Uh. We just. Wanna know where this jazz club is.”

The two homeless ponies gave him scrutinizing looks for a moment before Louis gave a rough laugh, shaking his head slowly. “More than fair enough, I’d say. You colts’ve earned it. It’s a dead place most nights, now, but...you’ll find it three blocks down from here. Look for the old movie theater – ‘s been closed down for a while now, but still standing. Entrance is at the back, goes down to the basement.” The unicorn smiled slightly. “Tell ‘em Louie and Dribs sent ya, if they give you any trouble.”

Riffraff nodded again. “Why don’t you two play there?” he asked quietly, watching as Louis carefully counted out the coins.

Dribble shrugged and ran a hoof along his worn banjo before tweaking one of the tuning knobs. “Jus’ ain’t really our scene no more.” He paused, then smiled a bit at his companion. “Besides, me an’ Louie...we don’ care for the atmosphere so much...know it’s harder’n hell to reckon, us bein’ who we bein’...but we don’ much need the temptation of drink.”

“That’s a respectable choice,” Graceful responded, his tone gentle. Riffraff gave him a compassionate gaze, recalling the quiet tale his partner spontaneously revealed to him several months ago. The slender pegasus had dealt with his own demons, vices that Riffraff easily considered to be as dangerous and challenging a struggle as his own bind with an actual demon of Helheim. When he’d finally freed himself of his oppressive childhood and nigh-fanatical parents, his most common response was through sexuality, exploring his physical needs and desires with the voracity of a starved, caged beast set free before an endless buffet. But the sudden, boundless freedom led him to experiment with and binge upon a myriad of alcohol and narcotics, and for a solid few years.

It had been one of the few nights when Graceful had cried, sobbed almost uncontrollably, but hadn’t recovered back to his usual bounciness within an hour or two. Riff was used to the feminine male’s unpredictable bouts of moodiness and near-bipolar tendencies; however, only rarely did Grace take more than a couple hours to recover from the lowest of lows. But after spilling his heart to his companion about the years he’d spent burying himself in the benefits of being an attractive lounge singer with a decent asking rate, Graceful Melody spent the rest of the night and next morning in a quiet, withdrawn state, slumped against the larger pegasus. Riffraff had only been able to hold him tight and reassure him that no pony was without his faults and mistakes. “I think that’s very brave to live life this way rather than being even tempted by that stuff,” Graceful murmured, glancing at Riffraff and then smiling supportively to the other two.

Louis looked up from his counting, giving the periwinkle pony a thoughtful glance while Dribble laughed a bit. “Y’all have a strange way about ya...but it’s pretty good t’see. Go on, though...get your flanks down there ‘fore they get started...see what ya think...” He nodded and the look in his eyes said all that needed to be said between them.

“Thanks,” the two pegasi replied in tandem. Graceful looked almost relieved, grateful to be past the potential subject of his own past. He swallowed quickly but gave them both a genuine smile and nod before looking at Riffraff pointedly.

“Uh...right, well...we’ll get moving along, then,” the larger male said softly, feeling his partner almost shyly press to his side – rare for the extroverted pegasus in just about any situation. “I wish the best to you both. In a way, I think we envy you.” He smiled slightly as the other two musicians simply regarded him with amused but understanding expressions. “Thanks again.” With that, he stretched out a wing to fold gently over Graceful’s slim frame and guided the effeminate stallion in the direction of the supposed club.

Louis and Dribble began to play softly once again as the two headed down the unkempt street, practically creating an appropriately dismal soundtrack for their surroundings. Riffraff smiled to himself. We meet some of the strangest ponies doing what we do. He chuckled quietly before softening as he looked down at the quiet pony at his side. “You okay, Grace?”

Graceful Melody glanced up with his expressive silver irises, pupils still a bit wide and eyes overbright. “Yeah...yeah, I’m okay, sorry. Haven’t talked about that stuff in a long time.” He quietly nosed at his partner’s neck, keeping his side pressed tightly against Riff’s. “Feels silly that I can be so crazy ‘n bouncy even after a pretty serious arrest, especially against me...but I can’t even think about that stuff without...you know...”

Riffraff smiled awkwardly, nodding silently and gazing down at the smaller pegasus. While he had never quite drowned himself in the delights of alcohol and drugs, the masculine pony could still somewhat relate. His adolescence and young adulthood had been filled with empty patches and yearning for so much more than what his relatively boring life provided. Had he been repressed by his parents the way that his companion had been, he might have ended up shoving needles into his veins and bar-hopping until last call every other night. He knew the pangs of emptiness, of feeling that something was missing. And though he had never quite binged the way Graceful had, he could understand the need to try and fill those holes with something, even if that something was a lie. “I don’t think it’s so strange, Gracie. You can have fun in prison. You can have fun with sex. But that stuff you did back then...you can’t have real fun with it.”

Graceful paused, then smiled slightly in return. “That’s a pretty lame explanation, hon. But I think I’ll let you live with it.”

The larger stallion chuckled quietly. “Hey, give me a little credit. I’m doing this on the fly.” He had to bite his tongue – normally teasing and taunting between the two came as naturally and as easily as a regular couple might compliment each other, but Riffraff had long ago discovered that Graceful’s seedy past made for a sensitive subject. “You ready to go and find this place, though? See if all the secrets and horse-apples lead up to anythin’ special.”

“Okie doke,” Graceful murmured, a more genuine smile quirking at his muzzle. “Yeah.” He swung his hips gently into his companion’s own. “Mr. I Don’t Want Us To Get Too High And Mighty With Some Free Money.” The slender pegasus laughed, his body loosening up beneath the protective curl of Riffraff’s broad wing.

The two pegasi continued their way along the degraded street, gazing around at the abandoned factories and rundown apartment complexes. A few ragged-looking ponies milled about, sitting on dilapidated stoops or leaning out of cracked windows with glum expressions on their features. But Riff and Graceful ignored the ghostly, and occasionally baleful, stares and kept their eyes open for the aforementioned theater. They figured it couldn't be that much further, considering how far they'd traveled through this part of town, and sure enough, they spotted it a moment later and Graceful brightened immediately, smiling up at the masculine pony before breaking into a sprint for the shuttered building. His companion laughed softly, trotting after him and shaking his head a bit, still unsure of whether or not he’d believe that the club still existed beneath the rotting cinema.

Graceful Melody had already rushed around to the back, scrambling up and over a rusted chainlink fence that Riffraff scaled a moment later with a hard flap of his wings. He smiled to himself as he caught a glimpse of his partner’s messy cerulean tail flashing around the edge of the building, quickly pursuing the smaller pegasus and then nearly running into Graceful’s flank when he turned the corner. The periwinkle stallion had paused almost nervously before the short flight of stairs leading down into a recessed doorway, marked only with a shattered neon sign that once lit an outline of a saxophone. He looked hesitantly up at Riffraff, who studied the weathered entrance for a moment and then shrugged before the smaller pegasus nodded firmly and chirped brightly: “Hi, Dusey!”

Riffraff groaned and threw his head back with a slap of a hoof against his forehead. “You are impossible.”

“Yap yap,” the slim male replied cheerfully, shimmying down the steps easily, his body turned sideways to nearly glide down to the stoop. He looked up at Riffraff with a laugh, then glanced at the door before knocking on it gently with a hoof.

Riffraff bit the inside of his cheek nervously as he slowly followed his companion down the crumbling steps, immediately flattening his ears out of instinct when the steel door cracked open a few inches. He couldn’t make out the features of the pony in the murky haze, the hint of a dark grey muzzle poking out from the sliver between door and frame. “What the hell do you want, faggot?” the hidden pony asked gruffly.

The crimson pegasus frowned slightly, though Graceful took it in stride as always, leaping up and putting his front hooves on either side of the ajar door, shoving his muzzle forward. “Hey! It’s Graceful Melody and Riffraff! C’n we come in? We wanna listen an’ see if we could maybe play, too!”

Before the shrouded voice could spit some derogatory reply, Riff quickly came up next to the smaller pony and added, “Uh, Louie and Dribs sent us.”

The grey-hided muzzle behind the door was still for a moment, then grunted and slowly backed away before the door swung open. “Alright. Band’s warming up. You c’n sit your asses at the back and watch – silently.”

“‘Kay!” Graceful trilled, half-bouncing through the door with a bright expression as Riffraff followed sheepishly, his wings folding against his sides tightly. He barely hopped out of the way when the door was shoved shut again, his tail flicking away to avoid being pinched. He scowled at the glaring earth pony who apparently served as the impromptu bouncer, but earned a far more venomous snarl in return. The blood-red pegasus blinked and skittered to the side, then hurriedly reached out to grab his companion’s tail before Graceful could attempt running up to a table near the front.

“Grace!” he whispered fiercely, the feminine stallion pouting over his shoulder and then reluctantly turning around to half-allow Riffraff to pull him over to the furthest corner booth. “Let’s...let’s just do what they say for now. And see if it’s actually worth hangin’ out, alright?”

“Okaaaay,” the slim pegasus mumbled, plopping down and dropping his muzzle into his hooves as he glowered across the table at the stage. Through the lingering smoke – which was apparently a permanent feature of the establishment, considering that only two or three other ponies lounged in the dark club at the time – he could see four ponies setting up and tuning their instruments. He spotted a guitarist, a drummer, a trombonist...and a thrill of excitement ran through him when he noticed the last pony, a tall, athletic pegasus, sat behind a full upright bass. “Oooh, look, Riffy! They got a real bass!”

The larger stallion had been studying the quartet, himself, and felt both intimidated by the presence of another guitarist, as well as pleased at the variety he saw on the stage. A baby grand piano was situated at one corner, though at the time no pony sat behind it; as much as he’d loathed Keyes, he believed rather firmly in the piano as a staple of many blues and jazz tunes. “They sure do,” he said softly, smiling a bit despite himself as he automatically reached for a cigarette to light up in the atmosphere that all but begged for it.

“But...” Graceful frowned as he leaned forward a bit, then half-shouted to the glowering stallion standing near the heavy door. “Hey, who’s singin’ for ‘em? They dun have anypony at the mic!”

The stoic earth pony made a face before he shrugged, voice a gravelly rumble. “Ain’t got a singer tonight, queenie. She’s out sick. The Pack don’t need ‘er, though. Now shut up or I’ll kick your sorry asses out.”

Graceful pouted and leaned closer to his companion to whisper, “Hey, I wanna go up there an’ sing!”

The other pegasus looked sourly at Grace before lowering his head and covering it with one forelimb, the other flicking his cigarette irritably to the side. “Gracie...I’d rather not be murdered tonight. Especially by a bunch of jazz musicians. I somehow feel that would be a really really awkward, ironic death, and would either make Amdusias laugh himself to death, or be insanely pissed off that he didn’t think of that, himself.”

“Oh, Riffy, you worry too much,” Graceful replied with a confident smile. “Dun worry, I’ll do it sneaky-like. They won’t even realize I’m up there singin’ until one of ‘em realizes I’m up there singin’!”

Riffraff scowled and continued to hide under his front leg, turning his attention to the stage as the quartet began a loosely synchronized warm-up number. “If you insist, but I don’t know you if they feel like killin’ you, fairy-colt.” He settled himself in his awkward position, ears low but trained to the musicians as he drew his eyes across each one curiously.

Behind the upright bass was the only pegasus of the group, his hide a rich azure not all that distant from the shade of Graceful’s mane and tail. His body was tall but toned, and he wore an open blazer across his narrow shoulders. It made the larger pegasus realize he hadn’t worn his own leather jacket since they’d left Tailsa and started the journey to Canterlot. Well no wonder I feel out of place everywhere I go. He snorted softly, then glanced back to the bassist. The blue pegasus moved the bow across the strings with smooth motions, though Riff noticed he kept his eyes wide open – it was almost eerie considering how most musicians in the genre of jazz and blues often shut their eyes while they played. The guitarist was a stout unicorn clad in a full tuxedo, though his collar was loosened and the black bow tie hung freely from his neck. Riffraff could see, though, despite using his horn to help with some of the more difficult chords, his hooves still did most of the manipulation across the strings. The bassist’s emblem was of a single quarter note, while the guitarist’s bore an amplifier – Riffraff ventured the guess that he’d played a different kind of guitar before finding his way into the jazz and blues venue.

The earth pony with the gleaming silver trombone reminded him of Jet, if Jet had a hornless brother or cousin. His hide was black as midnight, and his mane and tail were a frazzled gray, the former covered with a worn felt hat. The cutie mark on his flank depicted a tall elm tree. I don’t think he did much with his destined gift, or at least he doesn’t for a living. He smiled a bit – he himself, after all, had broken away from his fated profession thanks to a passion for musical art. Lastly, the fourth member seated behind the small drum kit was also an earth pony. He was a young stallion, though he seemed mature enough as he tapped the sticks lightly against each piece of the entire set, checking the timbre of each one. His emblem was of a crossed pair of swords...which, if one squinted just right, could easily look like a pair of drum sticks. The masculine pegasus smiled slightly, lifting his head somewhat and feeling more at ease as he finished his cigarette and leaned back slowly in the padded booth.

Graceful seemed content for the moment to simply watch them warm up, curling up a bit at his companion’s side. Riffraff had a hunch that the slender male would find his way onto the stage, one way or another, but for now let himself relax and not stress about the inevitable drama of Graceful Melody’s invasion. Riff wrapped a foreleg around his partner’s shoulder, glancing over to the door when the gruff earth pony greeted a few sharply dressed stallions, pulling the door wide to allow them passage. They wore suits, but the style was that of decades past. Each pony sported a fedora and a cursory inspection told Riffraff these were older stallions whose hey-day had long since passed, but who could enjoy a taste of the life they once lived in the smoky jazz club. Two of them glanced at the corner booth as they made their way to another enclosed table, frowning at the two stallions pressing side-to-side; Riff wasn’t sure, however, whether their scrutinizing glares were due to withnessing public affection between males, or simply because their sanctuary had been breached by unfamiliar outsiders. A tall, aged unicorn squinted at them both before pausing just past their booth. “You here to cause trouble?”

“No sir, just here to hear some good music,” Riffraff replied immediately, giving the most winning smile he could muster. He nodded quickly toward the once-more-glaring bouncer. “He let us in, we didn’t sneak in.”

The unicorn looked over his shoulder at the unnamed earth pony as the rest of his posse slowed and turned around, grave expressions across their muzzles. “So. It has come to this.”

Cracking the slightest smile, the burly stallion shook his head slowly. “Afraid they showed up with blessings from Dribs and Louie. But say the word, I’ll kick their flanks out in a heartbeat.”

Riffraff shrank back slightly in the booth, swallowing and looking apprehensively at the unicorn while Graceful put up a more defiant front, his muzzle wrinkling. But the well-dressed stallion gave them both a less hostile look than they expected, tilting his head slightly as a hint of curiosity ran past his features. “Is that so? Well...there must be a reason these two gained their good word.” He shifted his glance back to the bouncer with the same contrite smile. “Let ‘em strut if they choose to strut, Brutus.”

The dark grey pony frowned somewhat but nodded silently, turning back to sit before the threshold of the club with a grunt. Riffraff and Graceful both stared at the unicorn with a mix of confusion and poorly hidden gratitude, unsure of why they'd been shown this courtesy. But he only nodded once and turned around to rejoin his party at a table near the center of the back wall. Graceful leaned up to his partner after a moment, whispering loudly: “Hey, whatcha think he meant? Does that mean I can go up and sing? Can we go up and play?”

“I. Don’t even have my guitar, and you’re not dressed pretty and. Let’s at least wait for them to finish warming up and start their damn first set,” Riffraff mumbled. But he couldn’t deny the thrill of hope that coursed through him – they had basically been invited to show their mettle on stage by somepony who clearly had weight in this all-but-secret dive. “We’ll see if an opportunity opens up,” he added delicately. “Maybe they’ll...ask for volunteers or something.”

“We gotta have initiative!” Graceful insisted, reaching over to shake the larger pegasus a few times. “No more being quiet, meek wallflower ponies!”

“You have never been any of those things,” the masculine pony replied mildly, though he couldn’t mask his tiny smile. “Either way...hush, they’re getting ready to start, it looks like.” He nodded toward the stage while beside them, another small group of ponies was given passage through the main door. The quartet of musicians had all stopped playing, glancing around at one another before looking through the haze at the small gathering throughout the club.

The guitarist stepped toward the lonely microphone, pulling it down toward his muzzle. “Evening, everypony. As you may know, Elle is still out sick. So we’ll be playin’ for you a different set, unless anypony wants to come up and take her place.” A few chuckles sounded from across the thin crowd, though Riffraff had to all but tackle Graceful into the booth to prevent him from leaping up and yelling, though his muffled shouts were still semi-audible even with his face forcefully shoved into Riff’s chest. The guitarist noticed them almost immediately, his horn glowing faintly as some of the thick smoke between their booth and the stage slowly rolled apart. He shot a questioning glance toward Brutus, who shrugged and pantomimed the act of writing a note. It seemed to be enough to lessen the musician’s concern as the unicorn studied them for another moment. “Well now. Looks like we have some newcomers out there. Ain’t hard to tell – we ain’t exactly no big social club.”

The comment was met with another round of quiet laughter and a few heads turned to crane over shoulders and peer at the two strange stallions still wrestling near the back corner. “But regardless of how you found the place...we know you’ll like a little taste of this here.” With that, the unicorn took a step back as the drummer counted briskly aloud while tapping his sticks together before all four ponies broke into a quick jazz tune that Riffraff vaguely recognized but could tell had been heavily modified for the small group. Graceful slipped out of his companion’s choke-hold easily but made no move to rush the stage, his ears perking as he leaned forward and crossed his forelegs upon the table. The music had as great an effect on him as it did the larger pony at his side and he was rooted to the spot as he excitedly watched the skilled foursome move together, even the slight twists of their bodies and bobs of their heads synchronized.

After the energetic intro, the trombonist stepped forward and began to blow a rich melody that blasted atop the other three instruments and yet still locked down tightly with them, never seeming to outplay or completely overrule any of his compatriots. Riff watched him specifically throughout his lengthy feature, fascinated by the speed and complexity of the trombone segment – he’d seen professional trumpeters who couldn’t play as fast as this ebony earth pony, let alone other trombonists. Beyond the fact that the pony’s skill was above and beyond most of the finest brass players he’d seen, Riffraff had also never played with anypony who specialized in the sliding brass instrument. Considering the tiny venues he and Graceful usually played, it was rare to even find decent accompanying drummers and bassists, let alone any brass musicians. He found the experience rewarding – even from the furthest back corner – and grudgingly began to hope that he and Graceful actually would be given a chance to come up and join the quartet.

Graceful Melody could hardly contain himself as the musical ponies seamlessly moved into their next number, his tail swishing beneath the table as one hoof tapped firmly against the pockmarked table in time to the more swing-like song. He knew this particular instrumental -- Riff often performed a solo version of it when he played easy tunes before or during their sets as a sort of intermission. A genuine smile remained on his muzzle as he nodded along to the catchy rhythm of the guitar, his eyes flicking to the toned pegasus behind the upright bass. His lower hoof had tucked the bow into a pouch built onto the side of the instrument, instead plucking away at the strings as he grinned at the guitarist’s back, apparently appreciating the unexpected shift in pitch set by the smiling unicorn. Graceful’s attentive ears had picked up on the alteration and he shared the bassist’s cheerful expression; he adored unannounced changes and unpredictable key shifts during live performances and could appreciate them just as easily when he watched another musician execute the same tricks. He eventually tore his gaze away from the rapid thumping and plucking of the bassist and watched the drummer with a bright, toothy grin. He could certainly enjoy the talent of the young earth pony...though it also helped that, as with most proper drummers, his body was tightly woven with hard musculature and he wore no clothing to cover up his rippling frame. His hide was chestnut, though his mane had been dyed a mix of bright orange and black and was styled into several spikes that poked out in all directions. Graceful licked his lips and leaned forward a bit more, resting his elbows on the table and dropping his muzzle into his hooves. He’s waaaay cuter than that flankface from Tailsa who had poo-brain for musical talent. Riffraff nailing me had more rhythm than that guy. But this one... “Mmmmm...”

Riffraff blinked and tore his eyes away long enough to give his starry-eyed companion a strange look, then shrugging and refocusing on the quartet as the guitarist began a light solo, barely any louder than the rest of the players. He was using an extremely soft, muffled effect – while Riff tended to keep more to the raunchier, unclean sound of blues guitar rather than the muted tones of a jazz guitar, he still adored the effect when applied correctly. And it’s definitely used just perfectly here. He smiled, both a bit threatened by the skill of the unicorn, but also admiring of the stallion – he and Grace both had the sense that these four played for the sake of the music, that they shared a passion for it. They obviously sought to please their small, dedicated crowd, but their souls carried all the reason they needed to put their finest efforts into each and every note.

The four ponies proceeded through a good hour or so of uninterrupted music as the crowd – augmented now by another five or six latecomers – formed several tightly packed groups that began to give the dinky bar upon the furthest wall a considerable surge of business. Snippets of the light conversations drifted through the smoky club, never loud enough to make listening to the musicians difficult. This especially made Riffraff jealous of the quartet; it was rare for Graceful and him to have even half of their average audience be so attentive.

When one of their more soulful numbers slid into a fading coda, both Graceful and Riff perked up, their hopeful gazes impossible to hide. The ponies on stage neatly hit a final note as one, then bowed to the enthusiastic clapping that rose up from the audience while the guitarist grinned and once again approached the microphone. “Thank you, folks, much appreciation for all'a y'all. You’re the reason we ain’t out tryin’ to find us legitimate jobs, so believe us when we we say that.” Several ponies laughed and one voice rose above the crowd.

“You gonna sing tonight, Groove?”

Another round of laughter. The unicorn flashed his teeth and responded curtly with a nod to the other pony: “I’d say we got ourselves ‘nuff trouble keepin’ the few of you we still got comin’ down here...so I ain’t even gonna go there.” The other three on stage looked amused as they set down their instruments and stretched slowly, the bassist already hopping off the stage to amble off toward the bar. “You folks know the deal – fifteen minutes and then we’ll be back.” He pushed the microphone away, then slipped his guitar strap off as the audience turned back to their own tables as conversations once again picked up.

At some point, Graceful had gone to the bar and gotten ginger ales for both himself and his partner, and Riffraff nursed his almost nervously while his companion stood on the cushion next to him and bounced a bit. “Riffy, Riffy, do you think we c’n come on stage now? I wanna go, I wanna sing so bad!”

Riffraff winced, already spotting the guitarist and drummer both giving their booth querulous looks. “Uh. Well. I want you too sing too, babe, and I won’t even lie...I would kill foals to go up there and play, myself, but...this is still kind of not our territory.” He lowered his head a bit, sipping loudly from his straw when Groove and the well-built drummer wandered toward them. “Oh balls.”

Graceful’s eyes lit up and he excitedly put his front hooves on the table while continuing to stand on the bench. “They’re comin’ over heeeeere!”

Riffraff groaned and dropped his head into his forelegs, already dreading the encounter despite the pangs of longing he felt to hear an invitation to the stage. Not that they even know that we’re musicians ourselves, yet...

“Hey, guys!” he heard Graceful chirp from next to him, lifting his head enough to peer over his muscular limbs. “Y’all’re awesome! We were playing at this crappy place before, and the pianist, he was a real dick! We didn’t like him very much and my coltfriend’s scary demon beat him into chunky li’l pieces, but their bartender was really cute, but this place is still better just ‘cause of the music!” At that moment, Riffraff wouldn’t have minded if the floor opened up and swallowed him to send his body down into a pit of eternal digestion. He mumbled incoherently into his legs but still glanced up at the unicorn and earth pony if only to see their reactions.

The guitarist smiled amusedly as he tilted his head to one side. “You two was involved with the beating of that talentless bastard?” He shared a grin with the drummer, who had been looking rather intently at the periwinkle pegasus. “We was wonderin’ what happened to ol’ Keyes. Heard about it on the grapevine...you know us musicians can’t keep our yaps shut for even a hot minute.”

“I am glad these fine examples of mortals agree with me,” an all-too-familiar voice announced from Riffraff’s other side and he turned his head creakily to stare up at Amdusias before muttering and rolling his eyes. “You see? Proper musicians, not philistines and fools like those crude law-jockeys.” The demon nodded with approval, lacing his fingers together and then glancing down at Riffraff with a scowl. “Do not fix me with that nasty little glare, meatsack. I would have only wandered in here if the ambiance was worth my examination, or if another bunch of talentless wretches had dared to insult the finer art in this horrible metropolis. And clearly these less-disgusting-than-usual mortals do not fall into the latter category.” He looked thoughtfully at the unicorn and earth pony as they stared at Riffraff with a hint of concern at the awkward pause that had followed whatever Graceful had said in response to Keyes’s beating.

“Uh. Yeah. Whatever Gracie said,” he mumbled, shifting slightly and trying to ignore the fact that the scaled entity was practically leaning against him in the tiny booth. You really love making life awkward, don’t you?

“I can make your life infinitely more awkward,” Amdusias replied snidely, tilting his spiked muzzle upward. “I know where your genitalia lies.”

Riffraff blinked, unsure of how to respond to the demon, then looking up stupidly as the guitarist repeated slowly: “So...you two play?”

Graceful frowned at his partner, then shrugged and nodded several times. “Yes! I sing! An’ Riffyraff, he’s an awesome guitarist! I’m not sayin’ he’s better’n you, you’re really good too! You actually have two sorta different styles, but it’s cool, I like that.” He beamed and then fixed his eyes on the drummer, licking his lips a bit. “And I dun believe we’ve met.”

“Actually, none of us have met, technically,” Riffraff interjected moodily, ignoring the fact that Amdusias was now poking his skull repeated with one of the tines at the end of his long, flexible tail. “Sorry, I’ve got this. Thing. It's really really annoying. And impossible to get rid of.”

Graceful peered over at Riff again, then whispered loudly, “Is. Is it herpes?” Riff's eyes widened and he glared at his companion before Graceful paused and then brightened. “Oh! Dusey? Is he here again?” Both guitarist and drummer blinked in confusion as Riffraff nodded with a sour expression, then looked more surprised than anything as Graceful suddenly beamed and waved at the glowering earth pony by the entrance. “Hi, Dusey!”

“Your fair maiden is an idiot,” Amdusias remarked, looking almost fascinated as he leaned forward across the table to study the two confused ponies. “Tell them you wish to play. I arrived in time only for their last song, and I wish to hear more, as well as desiring to see you two on stage so you may redeem yourselves for the incident at the last horrific venue.”

Riffraff sighed, feeling trapped between three encroaching storm fronts as he looked dourly up at Amdusias, then rubbed a hoof through his mane. “My...coltfriend is. Special. But he’s not mentally incapacitated, I promise. His name is Graceful Melody, and he really does have a beautiful voice. I’m Riffraff, I dabble with the harmonica and...can play a little blues guitar.”

“Riffy! You play a LOT more than a little blues!” Graceful scolded the larger pegasus, reaching over to poke his shoulder several times before leaning back across the table with a wink. “But who are you two?”

The unicorn smiled slightly again, his long mane hanging down along either side of his face. “Gotta spare guitar in the back. I’ll grab it for you. Name’s Molasses, but everyone calls me Groove. And this here’s Triple Threat, though we call ‘im Trip.” The muscular earth pony nodded, smiling briefly and glancing again at Graceful with more than a hint of mischief in his adolescent eyes. “Pegasus on the bass is Haystack and the fella on trombone is Bass Clef...you may guess it, but just Clef works.” The unicorn chuckled and nodded, surveying the two once more. “So...”

“Demand that you two be allowed to play,” Amdusias declared, slamming a fist into the table and apparently not caring that all four ponies looked down at the surface awkwardly, only Riff seeing the source of the sudden bang. “Or I will make life uncomfortable for you.”

“Like it isn’t already,” Riff muttered under his breath before faking a wan smile toward the other two. “Uh, so. Groove and Trip. What...do you plan on playing for the next set?”

The drummer grinned and spoke up before Groove could: “Duh, we came over to see if you two wanted to come up there. You been watchin’ all night, and you actually follow the music instead of just boppin’ your heads along. Plus, he’s been starin’ at me all night. So like...common sense, right?”

“You noticed!” Graceful squealed, licking his lips and making the stud in his tongue very visible for a moment as he leaned forward a bit more, enough that the concealed reptile on Riff’s other side had to withdraw with a scowl. “I just...love the way you handle your sticks,” he added in a sultry tone, giggling coyly as the earth pony gave a broader grin.

Riffraff sighed and dropped his head for a moment before clearing his throat. “He’s a clinical nymphomaniac. I apologize. Uh, I would love to play, yeah, and I’m sure Grace would be happy to sing along to a song or two, as well. We...uh. Just don’t wanna get in the way or anything. Though. We are looking for work,” he finished lamely as Amdusias looked down at him before bursting into loud laughter.

“Truly, it is a miracle you yourself were not put on trial as a lawyer. You speak with the eloquence of a dessicated corpse.”

“Well, we ain’t makin’ any offers like that yet,” Groove replied with a chuckle. “But come on up with me, I’ll get you hooked up. And Graceful, we’ll play you up in a song or two, since I got the feelin’ you like an entrance.”

“I like all kindsa entrances,” Graceful immediately fired back with a wink, the unicorn blinking as Trip laughed and flashed another toothy grin. “But sounds good! Thanks a lot, we really do wanna show what we c’n do!”

Groove smiled slightly and nodded to them both before jerking his head at both Riffraff and his drummer. “C’mon, colts.” He glanced at the larger pegasus. “You gotta get your guitar set up, and you...” he squinted at the young earth pony. “You know the rules. No dippin’ down ‘til after the show.”

Trip rolled his eyes, flicking his head to send a quick ripple passing through his spiked mane. “Duh, I knooow.” He grumbled but winked at Graceful before brushing past Groove to meander back toward his drum kit.

Groove watched the young stallion for a moment before giving a half-smile to the pegasi. “Dirty li’l bastard, but a good kid.” He eyed Graceful briefly, almost as a father might measure up his son’s potential date as he grunted, then motioned toward the stage. “C’mon, Riff. See what you can do.”

Riffraff nodded, then turned to the side before glaring up at Amdusias pointedly, the massive demon blocking his way out of the booth. He might have tried leaving on the other side, but he could already tell it would be far more embarrassing for him to ask his partner to move, thus revealing the rather excited status of his lower torso to the entire club.

“What do you want of me now, mortal?” the demon scoffed, once more lacing his fingers together and resting his forearms upon the tabletop. “I believe you have cheated your way through enough loopholes and one-sided bargains during this lifetime.”

“I believe your fat ass is in my way,” Riffraff muttered, meeting the reptile’s burning amber irises with his own defiant glare. “All that Slothing must be going right to your flank.”

Amdusias blinked, visibly fumbling for a response to the childish insult. “I...excuse me?” He snarled and leaned down low, shoving his muzzle painfully against Riffraff’s own as Groove paused in his return to the stage, glancing over his shoulder at the strangely-bent pegasus with an odd expression. “You will retract that statement immediately! My girth is not by any means greater than average; in fact, it would be reprehensible of me to claim my body is anything short of perfection to your vain mortal eyes!”

Riffraff scowled and shoved at the demon, Amdusias hissing furiously and nearly swinging a fist at him in return but halting before his balled hand could connect. His slitted pupils narrowed dangerously even as he slowly slid backward and then out of the booth, swinging out an arm in mock graciousness. Riff attempted to mask his nervousness – despite the semi-protection he had against harm from the reptilian creature, nothing could actually physically stop a beating or horrible spell or heavy-object-dropped-by-telekinesis from Amdusias. He nevertheless quickly scooted out of the booth while mumbling just loud enough for the demon to hear: “You know, I actually do wanna find out how you stay in shape. I don’t take you for the exercising type.”

He paused to glance back at Graceful with a slight smile before looking up awkwardly when Amdusias replied dryly: “My estate is a hotbed of constant, endlessly euphoric and extremely demanding copulation. Whenever I leave your adorable little realm, I am inevitably dragged into a whirling maelstrom of sexual exploration that would likely put even your experienced little filly into a state of immediate cardiac arrest.” He sniffed and polished the claws of one hand against his muscular chest, ignoring the gaping expression of the blood-red pony. “I do hope you don’t think I am telling the truth, vile little insect.”

Riffraff shook his head violently, then made a face. “I do hope you get exorcised by an angry demon-hunter,” he mumbled before quickly chasing after Groove, not wishing to receive yet another strange look that no doubt masked judgment of his mental state as rapidly deteriorating. He nonetheless still snuck a glance over his shoulder to see Amdusias having settled back into the booth, though keeping even distance between himself and Graceful so that his muscular frame would not be clipped by the occasional excited flap of the small pegasus’s wings. He always felt a pang of worry when he left Graceful's side with Amdusias still in close proximity. But for as long as he’d dealt with the demon, the enormous reptile never seriously injured Graceful, and furthermore wouldn't even threaten physical damage when he had no reason to harm the slender stallion.

When Riffraff reached the stage, he hesitated and stole a brief look around the hazy club. Only a few of the audience members even returned the searching gaze, though Riff still felt out of place thanks to the fact that aside from Trip, no other member of the quartet was without some article of clothing. Aw crap... He rubbed at his own muzzle nervously, then lifted his head when Groove emerged from the hidden door just around the corner. An old electric guitar was strapped around his neck and there were several meters of cables dragging behind it. He smiled slightly as he mounted the stage, looking down amusedly at the nervous pegasus. “You gotta get up here to play, colt. I ain’t gotta ‘nother effect pedal, so it’ll hafta be a straight sound.”

“That’s fine,” Riffraff replied lamely, now feeling a few eyes from the crowd locking onto him as he climbed onto the stage and carefully took the scuffed instrument from the unicorn. He slung it around his own neck and shoulder, then watched as Groove’s horn glowed with a light purple aura, the end of his guitar cord lifting into the air and guided toward the mixing board at the back of the stage to slide into an open channel input. “Uh, thanks.”

“Ain’t no thing. You play during the first tune when the boys get back, I’ll get your volume set and after that, you can handle it, right?”

Riff glanced down -- this guitar had only two gain control knobs, but also had a whammy bar built into the pearl-coated faceplate. “Yeah, not a problem. Appreciate that.”

Groove gave a crooked smile, then glanced to the side as Haystack and Clef ambled back together, chatting idly and then giving similar expressions of amusement when they noticed the crimson pegasus standing lamely on the other end of the stage. The bassist grinned slightly as he shrugged off his blazer and let it drop near his instrument before hopping up to the raised platform and sitting down behind the upright bass. “Amateur night, Groove?”

The trombonist snorted, flashing a grin of his own as he brushed firmly past the apprehensive Riffraff to retrieve his own silver instrument, working the slide a few times before tilting the brim of his fedora down slightly. “Don’tcha usually require auditions?”

Riffraff was more nervous about the eyes of the judgmental crowd than he was the words of the ponies around him – he had played with enough musical groups where he had been the “outsider” that he knew how to tell apart a friendly verbal sparring match between musicians and a genuine insult. He loosened up somewhat in the familiar atmosphere on the stage, glancing past the stubborn bangs that hung down over his eyes to scoff loudly at Clef. “Hey, if a lumberjack can pass the auditions, I’m sure I’ll be just fine.”

The ebony pony blinked before looking over his shoulder at his own flank, then giving a loud laugh. “Okay, fair enough! Though it was more for planting them, it’s what my folks did...but whatever, right?” He smiled somewhat and tipped his hat briefly toward the muscular pegasus. “Hope you you can back up that wit with somethin’ more substantial, though.”

“We’ll see,” Groove replied reassuringly, nodding once and then turning to the microphone as the audience automatically settled, though an undercurrent of mumbled questions and curious expressions made itself present just beneath the surface. “Alright, folks, we’re back now...got a guest up here as I’m sure you all noticed. We’ll judge whether or not he can stay by the clappin’, how’s that sound?” He grinned as the crowd showed its approval with a chorus of yells and stamping hooves. “Good. Colts, hit it!”

He gave a quick smile to Riffraff before dropping back to the rear of the stage as Trip tapped out a quick count and then immediately laid into the drums for a soft but rapid introductory sequence. Riffraff couldn’t yet pluck the song out of his memory and he frowned slightly while closing his eyes to listen as Haystack’s upright made itself known with a slower, rhythmic bass line that sounded a bit more familiar...but once Clef brought his trombone up and began a soulful upward scale, the crimson stallion recognized the tune with a broad smile. It was an old standard, and one he hadn’t played in months...but it was a childhood favorite of his, and he knew the key changes and variations like the back of his hoof.

He shifted the guitar slightly as he sat back on his haunches and positioned his left hoof along the neck and began to gently strum an easy rhythm in time with Haystack’s bass line, his head moving slightly to the quick beat of the drums. He could sense the stillness that came over the appraising audience as the ponies all paused their conversations to watch the unfamiliar musician perform. His guitar’s levels remained low at first, barely audible through the speakers and he knew Groove might have been plenty polite and generous to give him a chance on stage, but also wasn’t the kind of pony to let him make the rest of his quartet look bad. But as the song picked up and Clef backed down from his powerful lead, the unicorn eased Riffraff’s channel upward to bring the guitar part into the forefront of the instrumentation. Riff smiled a bit and glanced down at his hooves, the flexible tendrils emerging half-on-demand, half-instinctively in time for the solo that was usually taken in most variations of the song.

And as he expected, Clef’s trombone dropped nearly an octave to begin a more harmonic line while Haystack returned to the beginning of the key changes on the upright. On cue, his hooves changed from a strumming motion to a smooth picking that started slow, almost hesitant. He’d once written out his personal take on the classic solo, though he couldn’t remember it well enough to stray too far from the notes he had memorized from the record he’d listened to as a foal. It seemed to satisfy both his accompanying musicians as well as the crowd below, however, as the tempo of the song picked up slightly in response to encourage the faster second half of the melody. He grinned and closed his eyes, hooves taking on a life of their own to glide effortlessly along the strings while Groove allowed a few more notches of the volume slider back on the mixing board before slipping past the thumping drum kit and rejoining the pegasus at the front of the stage.

Graceful cheered on his companion from their corner booth, drawing a few sour glares from the rest of the audience. But as usual, he paid them no heed as he stood on the table and threw his wings out with a broad grin. “That’s my coltfriend!” he proclaimed to Brutus, who gave him a horrible look in return. It brought an amused smile to Riff’s face, though, and the crimson stallion glanced through the haze with a grateful expression as he rolled his upper hoof down along the neck of the guitar for the final, high-pitched section of the solo.

Next to the ecstatic pegasus, the invisible demon scrutinized the performance almost clinically, leaning forward on his forearms as his glowing eyes focused on the movements of Riffraff’s hooves. The tiniest smile tugged at his muzzle while his thick tail swayed naturally to the upbeat tempo, sharp tines tapping lightly against the floor. He seemed pleased enough considering his usually scornful expressions and he could admit freely that the music of this so-called “jazz club” wasn’t the worst he’d ever heard, especially for a mortal establishment.

Riffraff eased back into the simple rhythmic strumming when his solo ended and he heard polite clapping from a few ponies in the crowd and it gave him a thrill of pride to have even faked acceptance from this extremely close-knit community. He earned a nod from Clef and when he glanced over at the other guitarist, he found the same expression of half-surprise, half-relief on Groove’s features. Ugh, passed the first test. Yay? But he still felt far more positive than before as he played along with the other three, following their direction into the gentler close of the fast-paced tune.

When Clef’s final held note finally dropped off, Groove glanced through the crowd and let his gaze linger on Graceful’s excited form at the further corner for a moment before he winked and then turned around to the other four ponies. “Everyone cool with Riff staying on?”

The masculine pegasus was too nervous to turn around, but felt immensely relieved when Trip replied quickly: “Hell yeah! Let’s keep it goin’!” The other two stallions grunted their approval and Riff flushed quietly, clearing his throat and then looking expectantly at Groove. The unicorn grinned, nodding once before nudging the pedal on his effects board to bring his guitar to life again, immediately beginning to pluck out a familiar melody despite the immense variations he added to it. Riffraff smiled to himself and didn’t have to lift his head to know it was his companion who gave the bright squeal of excitement.

Amdusias blinked and quickly leaned back once more as Graceful leaped across the table and moved swiftly for the stage as Riffraff played a more rhythmic counterpart to the unicorn, Haystack joining in with his bow held in hoof, pulling it smoothly across the strings for an almost orchestral effect. The bassist and Clef looked somewhat skeptical, though it had been made clear they trusted Groove’s judgment. Several audience members cast even more visible doubt at the addition of a second newcomer as if the new guitarist’s ability to play had been merely a fluke.

The warm introduction glided up into a long trill as Graceful trotted quickly onto stage with a wink to the idle drummer, then flashed a winning smile out to the measuring audience. The dim spotlights glanced off the multiple piercings along his lower jaw and he walked up to the microphone, gripping the stand in one hoof and leaning in close to practically shove his muzzle against the metal tip. Trip gently tapped a drumstick against his hi-hat twice and in perfect timing, Graceful’s sultry voice rang through the multiple amplifiers.

“Fly me to the moon, and let me play among the stars...let me see what spring is like with Valk’ries of Asgard...” He stepped a bit closer, tone becoming a bit softer. “In other words...hold my hoof.” He winked out toward the audience. “In other words, I love you...”

The rest of the band picked up their volume when Graceful stepped back, his wide hips swaying gently with the music as he tossed his mane slowly. Riffraff and Groove played matching streams of soft guitar, both ponies performing a near-identical melody while the feminine singer again slid closer to the microphone. “Fill my heart with song, and let me sing forever more...you are all I long for, all I worship...and adore...” His voice grew warmer, less sensual and more bright as the five instrumentalists all reacted as one, their tempo gently increasing in response to Graceful’s emotional singing. “In other words...please be true...” He drew out the last word, tossing a teasing wink over his shoulder to the grinning drummer. “In other words, I love you...”

He stepped back once more with a bright expression, gazing out at a much more receptive crowd that seemed visibly pleased with the slim pegasus’s vocal abilities. Both guitarists plucked out the same repeated note before Groove nodded quickly to the crimson stallion, taking a step back and allowing Riffraff to take the solo once more. On his other side, Clef showed off his own expertise as he neatly followed the masculine pegasus’s solo only one or two notes behind. His trombone blew a warm reproduction of the stallion’s improvised melody to create a vibrant echo effect that roused the small crowd before them into a soft round of cheers.

The sextet synchronized as smoothly as if they’d played together for years, Trip and Haystack keeping a steady, unwavering tempo for the other four as the other three cued Graceful back for the final verse. Everypony’s energy rose together and the slender pegasus closed his eyes as he belted out the last lines powerfully. His voice carried through the stunned club like a bolt of lightning, his body tensing as he came to the final repeated chorus: “In other words...please be true...” He lifted the final syllable two octaves higher, clutching into the microphone stand as the piercing note cut through the air. “In other words...I love you.”

The applause rose from the crowd even before his sustained note faded out, the feminine pony smiling almost shyly as he stepped back from the microphone and bowed deeply while the other five stallions played the simple coda together to neatly end the old classic. Their warm reception became even louder when the music ended and Riffraff ducked his head slightly as the other four gave him and his companion genuine smiles of approval, Groove nodding firmly as Trip grinned broadly and even the sarcastic Clef looked impressed. Graceful beamed brightly, rushing over to Riffraff to hug him tightly for a moment and then trotting back to the microphone to look hopefully at Groove. He glanced amusedly at the rest of his band and received the same positive feedback as before. He bowed slightly with a small smile, gesturing to the effeminate pony to take the lead.

Graceful smiled happily and trotted back up to the microphone, looking thoughtful for a moment and then whispering over his shoulder to the other band members before laughing as Haystack rolled his eyes but had to hide his smile as he started plucking out a slow, bluesy bass line. The other four ponies followed suit soon after and a moment later, the periwinkle pegasus’s voice rolled through the crackling speakers as the audience once again fell silent to listen to the now-six-strong group on stage.

The second set lasted nearly two hours, with Groove encouraging Riff and Grace to remain on stage for the entirety of the performance. The muscular pegasus had accidentally snapped the whammy bar during a powerful dueling solo with the trombonist, though he’d been reassured multiple times by the guitar-playing unicorn that the instrument was nothing expensive or irreplaceable. Otherwise, the two ponies had been embraced by both the band and the particular audience, and it had given them both a much-needed boost in confidence considering all the bad luck they’d had over the last few days.

Amdusias watched the entire performance, content with sitting at the corner booth and observing both Riffraff and Graceful Melody throughout the lengthy set. He’d caught Riff occasionally glancing back at him, though he’d continuously forced a grimace or frown just to keep the pegasus on edge. In truth, he had been impressed for much of the evening, both with the two he considered to be “his” mortals, as well as the rest of the ensemble. They occasionally played notes that he felt were a bit too melodramatic through being intentionally off-key, and he could have done with less of the “unique” rhythms set by the young drummer who very visibly had an infatuation with little Graceful Melody. But overall, the demon lord had been pleased to find that this small, dingy corner of the altogether cacophonous mortal plane presented him with enjoyable music performed by considerably well-adjusted musicians.

When they’d finally finished – to the dismay of a large percentage of their audience – Haystack and Clef had both given brief words of praise to the newcomers, then disappeared into the lingering crowds to have a celebratory drink and converse with the admiring ponies. Riff noticed, however, that even if their audience was extremely faithful, they were not nearly as pretentious as the ponies who came to see Keyes’s performances. It was a sort of comfort to him, one he'd never grow tired of having.

He was only further pleased when Groove had set his guitar down afterward and thrown a foreleg around the crimson stallion, guiding him to a quiet corner of the bar to talk about the possibility of hiring on the two pegasi as both accompaniment for his quintet (that was, when Elle rejoined them) as well as filling in on the slower nights when there were even fewer souls to fill seats and tumblers. Riff explained that he and Graceful rarely stayed in any one place for long, but that they’d love to play the club whenever possible until they moved on. Groove had been rather wistful, showing a bit of jealousy for the lifestyle they were able to somehow manage despite knowing how so few musicians ever made enough pay from their art to even live a baseline existence. Riff, of course, had skirted around the issue of the check he and his companion were supposed to collect from the museum the next morning -- it had been far easier to tell the slight lie that they’d had some prize money from a distant music competition still saved up in order to stay afloat during the days since leaving Tailsa.

Graceful hadn’t wasted a moment in dragging the well-built drummer off the stage and to the dark bathrooms in the back, and the young stallion’s eyes had gone from suave and confident to almost scared as the grinning pegasus half-yanked him backward through the door before audibly locking it from the inside. Riff watched the admittedly amusing sequence from the corner of his eye and was both embarrassed and surprised when Groove had asked dryly: “Is that normal of him? Kinda figgered you two were...a thing?”

“Er...we are,” Riffraff began slowly, rubbing at his muzzle sheepishly. “We are. But Graceful has...urges. Needs, really. And I know a lot of ponies don’t really understand, and I don’t blame them. It doesn’t bother me since I sorta knew about his...behavior even before we got together. And he invites me a lot.” He paused, looking lame and clearing his throat quietly. “But the important part is that he’s never not come back to me at night. So...yeah, it’s weird and stuff, but...I don’t consider him to be in love with every stallion he...er. Drags off, as the case may be sometimes.”

Groove studied Riff for a good few seconds before shrugging. “Well, each to his own. Alls I care about is makin’ sure he doesn’t go hurtin’ my drummer, and you know I don’t mean physical-like.”

Riffraff softened. “I see. Well, Grace...he’s usually good about that with the guys he...likes. It sounds weird, but he would kind of go to bed with anything that walked if he needed it, but I can tell he likes Trip. He might scare him at first, but...he’ll treat him right and if anything else, make his bite a little worse than his bark, since it kinda just now looked like he was a little...hesitant.”

The unicorn seemed torn between slugging the pegasus and bursting into laughter, and luckily for Riff he went with the latter, shaking his head slowly. “Yeah, alright, alright. Know what you’re thinkin -- nah, he ain’t some illegitimate child of mine or nothin’, just a kid I sorta look after due to the fact his parents is real bad with the whole parentin’ thing. Wanted him to turn out as someone he ain’t wanted to be. But you got a point...he’s real big on makin’ eyes at certain stallions, which don’t bother me none. But I guess I ain’t really seen nopony drag HIM off like your little Grace did.” He chuckled and Riffraff smiled, relieved that the awkward conversation hadn’t gone south, as he was aware it very easily could have done.

“Heh, yeah, it looked like it. It’s probably a good thing, since otherwise...you know. He might end up like Gracie, and trust me...having a coltfriend like him is bad enough, I can not imagine what kind of hell it would be raising a colt like him.”

“Well, he is pretty much a stallion already,” Groove replied, looking somewhat relieved at his own words as the thought of what the pegasus had described played through his mind. He shuddered and took a deep swig of the whiskey he’d been given by the bartender. “So...” He trailed off slowly and looked pensively at the crimson stallion, who rubbed sheepishly at the back of his head.

“Yeah, it is usually this awkward when this happens, and yes, it has happened very similarly before,” Riff mumbled, dropping his foreleg against the bar and lowering his head to it as well. “No offense, though, if the kid really isn’t too...experienced, uh...well, let’s just say that Grace should have him out of there soon,” the crimson pony added lamely. “He’s. Really good at what he does.” He didn’t look up as he gave the unorthodox reassurances, though the uncomfortable awkwardness seemed to lighten somewhat.

After a few silent minutes, Groove cleared his throat and patted the other stallion’s back firmly. “Feels a little weird sittin’ here waitin’ for them to be done, so...I’m gonna go ahead and rejoin my crew, and we’ll look forward to seein’ you two around here.”

Riffraff lifted his head with a relieved smile, glancing over his shoulder as Groove ambled toward Haystack and Clef. “Sounds good,” he replied quietly. He sat up and rubbed a hoof through his mane before scowling over at the bathroom door. Because it would be too boring if he didn’t make everything we did awkward. The pegasus excused himself when the bartender passed by to check for a drink request, sliding off the bar stool and returning to the corner booth where the night had begun.

He was only mildly surprised to find the spiked demon still lounging in the poorly lit haze, powerful arms draped over the rear of the bench-style seating and his long, thick tail curled neatly into a coil beneath the table. “Should I even ask why you’re still here?” Riffraff asked drolly, sliding into the bench and ignoring the icy glare Amdusias shot him.

“You are in no way entitled to have my choices explained to you,” Amdusias replied darkly. “At the time, you should consider yourself fortunate that you and your fair maiden performed well. Otherwise I would have already torn him away from his gudgeon and given you both a savage enough beating that you’d wish you were in Helheim under my whip.”

Riffraff hesitated, then peered up across the table. “Did you make up that word? Also, if you actually have a whip down there, I’m gonna continue to consider you to be in the same camp as me ‘n Grace.”

“Of course it is a real word,” the reptile snapped before glowering darkly at the amused pegasus. “And what are you implying, nasty little pony?”

“That you do not fancy fillies,” the stallion announced loudly, looking rather pleased with himself before he noticed Brutus giving him an extremely dark look from the door, only a few feet away. “Errr...not you!” he whispered with a deep blush, shrinking back slightly from the ashen earth pony that took a threatening step forward.

“I will not intervene if the giant mortal decides to pummel you into something even your loose filly would not touch,” Amdusias commented with a smug smile, leaning back and crossing his arms before grinning slightly. Riffraff frowned up at him as he tore his worried gaze from the glaring bouncer, then widened his eyes as he saw the demon’s long tail slithering across the floor and then lifting the twin tines high a meter or so from Brutus’s cold features. But before the scaled entity could pump any magical influence into the dark-hided pony, the bathroom door burst open across the bar, a loud bang causing the club to fall silent as even Amdusias blinked and slowly leaned sideways to peer past a pillar that obscured his line of sight.

The drummer stumbled out a few seconds later, a dazed grin on his face as he nearly tripped over his own hooves. “Holy shit!” he yelled to no one in particular, giggling stupidly as Groove muttered something under his breath and ducked his head slightly while his band members cackled and the ponies around them smiled as well. Trip managed to zig-zag across the hardwood floors to reach the bar, pulling himself onto a stool with another flushed grin. “Gimme...gimme...uh...something.”

The bartender looked halfway between amused and exasperated as he reached for a bottle of something amber-colored on the lower shelf. The exhausted earth pony turned to watch with admiration as Graceful emerged from the bathroom a minute or so later, strutting out primly with a freshly washed muzzle that sported a wide grin. He practically glowed with vitality, the very air around the pegasus bursting with sexual energy. He trotted by the fawning drummer with a playful wink, drawing his messy tail lightly along the other stallion’s back as he passed and eliciting a low groan of pleasure. The other three members of the quartet watched him prance back toward his companion, silver eyes slit but focused entirely on a rather embarrassed Riffraff.

Amdusias visibly relaxed his rippling musculature once the smaller pegasus moved beyond any potential threats from the mostly stunned crowd, Riffraff catching the small shift in the demon’s position. It amused him somewhat, considering how often Amdusias vehemently insisted that he had no cares whatsoever for the two ponies’ well-being. But a smile twitched at Riff’s muzzle and he decided he'd pester the demon about it later. For now, he did his best to look cross as Graceful flapped his wings a few times and then furled them against his sides with an accomplished grin, hopping onto the table and managing to surprise Riffraff despite knowing better than to assume the slender male had finished with his antics for the evening.

The feminine stallion licked his muzzle and leaned down, gripping into Riff’s shoulders as his haunches rose high into the air, drawing a brief stare from Brutus and – unknown to him – causing Amdusias to groan and hold out a hand childishly to cover the pony’s rear end. The latter reaction at least brought Riffraff some amusement and he smiled slightly, which unfortunately only encouraged the aroused pegasus to grin and immediately slide forward to plop down into Riff’s lap, grinding a distinctively damp crotch along the larger male’s own waist. Riff cleared his throat quietly, doing his best to restrain the sexual urges as he carefully reached up and patted his partner’s cheeks with both front hooves. “Uh, Grace...remember those little talks we’ve had about how boundaries change in public?”

“They’re all over there talking. Brutus c’n watch...and I know Dusey wants to see, too,” Graceful said huskily, licking his lips and glancing over his shoulder to look almost directly at where the demon sat. Amdusias blinked and then winced as the periwinkle stallion slowly lifted a foreleg to his muzzle and licked a long trail down toward his hoof. “Heeeeey, Dusey.”

Amdusias froze in place, eyes wide and his normally impenetrable facade shattered. “You. Cannot see me, mortal. Can he see me, Riffraff?” The demon seemed almost nervous and perhaps there was a hint of something else as Riffraff watched the reptile with amusement, beyond caring about his own growing arousal as it began to take a physical toll on him.

“He can probably just sense your erection under the table,” Riffraff drawled, leaning back with little regard at that point for the fact that he himself was quickly losing the ability to keep his body in check. “He’s got his own abilities, you know.” Graceful lit up over both Riff’s physical approval as well as the prospect of the demon’s elusive genitalia being in the open.

“Ooh, is it really there?” the feminine male gushed, easily turning around in Riffraff’s lap and putting his front hooves on the table top while peering almost directly at the invisible demon once more. His shapely buttocks moved teasingly against him and the crimson stallion dared to peek past his companion’s slim frame and at Brutus, though the grey behemoth had disappeared from his spot by the door and the red pegasus felt a rush of relief even as he tried to control himself...though his self-discipline had all but flown out the window at the possibility of seeing Amdusias so uncomfortable. “Make him show me, Riffy! I bet it looks so weird...but so awesome...” the smaller pegasus breathed, licking his lips again and subconsciously grinding back against his partner’s stomach as Riff gripped lightly into his hips, still watching the demon with a grin.

Amdusias was still staring at Graceful, blushing deeply even as he tried to fathom how the slender mortal could possibly make out his hidden form. He shifted awkwardly in the booth, amber eyes darting from Graceful Melody’s purring features to Riff’s half-amused, half-aroused expression. “You...this is reproachable, absolutely reprehensible and disgusting!” he stammered, almost standing but then quickly sitting again with an even darker flush as Riffraff slowly grinned.

“Dude, you do have a boner, don’t you?”

“As if I would ever be aroused by the likes of you measly insects,” he snapped, rapidly brushing an unnatural bit of sweat from his forehead before gritting his sharp teeth. “I will return to...do...something horrible when you two are not attempting to make me vomit, which is actually impossible since I have no physical need to ingest food.” With that, he mumbled something and then quickly disappeared into a swirl of black smoke that rushed out of the booth and beneath the crack under the heavy door of the club.

Riffraff continued to grin, hips idly grinding upward nearly against his own will. “Good job, Gracie. You actually managed to scare Dusey away, I think...”

The smaller pony pouted as he turned around quickly, making the muscular stallion wince. “He already leeeeeft? Did you get to see his penis?!?” he asked eagerly.

“Uh...no. But I’m pretty sure you did give him at least a little bitty boner,” Riffraff replied amusedly, nodding once. “You’re a scary little bundle of...oh, nonono--” His eyes fluttered, half-insult forgotten as his entire body shuddered as the smaller male’s head dropped down for a moment. “Oh crap, crap, Grace, stop, stop, stop!” he hissed, swallowing and stealing a quick glance over his shoulder to the rest of the bar. Only one pony was looking their direction with a horrified expression on his muzzle and the muscular stallion ducked down below the top of the booth, which caused Graceful to nearly be shoved under the table. The periwinkle stallion grinned up at him, licking his lips and giving a deep rumble of pleasure as he started to drop his head forward again, but was once again carefully pushed back by Riff’s hoof as the masculine pegasus mumbled and shook his head quickly. “Oh gods I want to, but...please, please, let’s. Let’s get outta here, we need to. Not...do that. Here,” he whispered, looking nervous while the effeminate singer pouted and reluctantly slipped out from between Riffraff’s lower legs and shaking his mane out quickly while hopping out of the booth.

“Okaaay, but then come on, right now,” Graceful Melody insisted, looking once over his shoulder before quickly shoving through the massive door to leave the smoky atmosphere. Riffraff cleared his throat and did his best to hide his very obvious arousal as he half-fell out of the booth and then scrambled after his companion. They drew a few awkward looks from the chatting crowd, though apparently they at least took such scenes far more in stride than most ponies would. He rushed to the open door and yanked it shut behind him before giving a strangled yelp as Graceful tackled him against the wall of the stone stoop, shoving his muzzle against the larger pegasus’s for a deep kiss and then using his wings to let his body slowly drift downward, pushing Riffraff into a sitting position against the cool surface as he grinned and then quickly began to continue what he’d started in the club. The crimson pegasus had little choice but to moan softly and roll his head back in delight, his hoof curling into his companion’s mane as he allowed physical desire take over and – more importantly – the needy Graceful to have his way.