Five Hundred Miles High! (Closed: Halide)

[Elderflower]

Riff Run had years of vagabond wandering to her name, but this had to be the biggest, brightest, most spectacular highlight of her entire life. After getting her cutiemark of course, and studying under her musical mentor. Or at least it would be the best ever thing after those two things once it happened. And why was this the absolute most wonderful, exciting, and thrilling event yet in her travels?

Because Riff Run was finally hitting up Las Pegasus! She had dreamed of this for so long, but for some reason her hooves had carried her down other paths. And a good earth pony always listens to her hooves, because her hooves were what rooted her to the ground! Riff Run’s grandma always told her there was wisdom in the earth, and ever since she was a filly she took that advice to heart. Ooo, maybe that was the reason she had put off this visit for so long! The jazzy mare knew that when she eventually visited this city, she would spend all of her time in the clouds – that was the thrill! But a part of her probably believed deep, deep down that without the earth beneath her hooves all of her wisdom and good sense would disappear with a poof!

But that was silly – she hardly had enough of either to lose! So it was probably a bits issue: it took some time for her to save up enough to afford a trip to Las Pegasus! Giddy and giggling, the coffee-coloured mare gazed up at the city before her: from the ground rose a bustling, luxurious metropolis that crawled up the mountains and came to life in the clouds. It beckoned her with its lights shining through the dusk and its thrum and the pure energy crackling out towards her. Eyes wide and shining, she galloped to the nearest balloon, tossed a unicorn some bits from her saddlebags, and braced herself as his magic swallowed her and filled her with floaty feeling that tingled up from her hooves and through her legs until she was overcome with a strange lightness. This was better than whiskey!

Oof, no, that was blasphemous. It came close, though! Shivering with anticipation, Riff Run stepped into the balloon and made the slow crawl upwards. Watching the earth shrink below her was…well, it was scary. Scarier than she had expected. In fact, it was all rather terrifying. She had been in high places before, but she was always standing on something: not in something. The same unicorn who had cast the cloud walking spell on her, however, was in control of the balloon and he gave her a reassuring smile. It calmed her long enough for them to start breaching the clouds…and then they came out into the city.

With all the fickleness of youth, Riff Run’s fear turned to excitement once more. She left the unicorn a generous tip, sang him a little ditty, and readied herself to skip off. The energy here was…indescribable. Everything was alive, it was luxurious and indulgent and expensive! Even the air she breathed smelled expensive: or was it just that the air was thinner? Hmmm.

Oh well, time to live it up! There simply hadn’t been enough action for her on the road – she was promised dangerous critters and tough country. Unfortunately, though, Riff Run had been one of the lucky ones whose journey was entirely peaceful except for an unlucky collision with a cactus. Boring!

First things first: eat some fancy food! Beaming and humming along to a tune she was keeping in her head, the jazz pony stepped out of the balloon. Walking on clouds felt unbearably fluffy and wonderful. It felt like she was walking straight into one of her grandma’s fairy stories. Glowing lights, a city in the clowds, smiling ponies! What fun! What an electric feeling! But she had to ignore that and concentrate! Had to keep her eyes peeled for a pony or featherbrain her guts told her she’d like: that’s the one she’d ask for advice on where to eat!

It didn’t take long. When Riff Run spotted the pony, her jaw dropped. She knew she had to get to know him. Dressed up in a suit and an odd mask, toting a case that she just knew held a saxophone (she had seen many a saxophone case in her lifetime), he made the perfect picture of a weirdo. And weird was something Riff Run liked best!

“Hey there stranger,” she sang out to him in silky tones as she danced over his way, “What’s your rush? Hey there stranger! Slow down, love! Birdy’s the name, and getting to know you’s the game!”

With her last word sung, she had caught up with him enough to step right in his way, a huge grin plastered on her face. She reached out a black hoof toward him, “The name’s Riff Run,” she purred, “but friends call me Birdy! What a strange one you are, what with the mask and all. I like it! You got a sax in there?”

[Halide]

Sandley wasn't a high-tempo jazz hit. He wasn't the sort to go cavorting from hall to hall with his sax to see what trouble he could stir up. He wasn't the kind of fellow who'd take on a cloudy street with both wings to the wind and no plan in his head. Sandley was a decent, straightforward, organized and respectable sort of fellow, just like his father, his father's father and his uncles before him. The meek, sandy-beige pegasus with the tuft of brown mane and the slightly nervous disposition wouldn't be caught dead in the late evening like this, looking for drinks and dancing and the sort of time he could look back and recall fondly.

But that was Sandley Bronzehoof - which this mask-clad, grinning pegasus in the lofty street clearly wasn't. No, this particular pony with the case on his back and the sauntering mare coming his way was an entirely different sort of fellow, in many senses. Clad in a pressed red suit, donning a wide-brimmed black-belted hat, he made more than a bit of a site to sore eyes (albiet only mildly). His eyes, how they burned. His grin, how it widened! Heads around him turned! His suit, how it reflected the light in a manner that spoke of both exuberance and a slight sense of vulgar garrishness. Rhyme that one, poindexter.

Still, he'd been addressed, so the stallion simply gave the lady a smile and retorted right back, a flick of his wing doffing his hat forward just a touch. Though most of his face was covered by the mask, his mouth remained free to jaw and yammer without pause or muffling. Once his voice started up, though, it was a rough sort of croon, almost what one might expect from a harsh jazz singer on a ritzy uptown stage. True enough to form, the slick fellow in the suit gave Riff Run a smile, then let loose with a half-sung bit of improvisation, his voice clear and crooning, yet rough with a bit of a growl to it.

"Hey, lady mare, you look a long way from home. Forget the dime tour, lemme give you a show. Everypony you see here come from miles around, taken in by the lights, the beauty and sound.

You say you wanna know me, lemme give you the spin - to know me is the same as knowin' this town that you're in. The land of the cool cats, the swing and the jive. Las pegasus, baby, s'what keeps life alive.

Now you're plenty high class, ain't no Canterlot square. So if you're willin', miss, might I make you a dare. We'll learn you this city, from the ground to the top, if you're up to be dancin', goin' round without stop."

He slipped his way towards the mare, offering a hoof and a grin. The fellow cleared his throat a bit, lowering his exuberance in favour of talking like a slightly less madcap sort of pony.

"Some call me whatever nickname they want, but most just call me the Mask. So, Birdy; you hip to this cat's jive?"

[Elderflower]

Birdy’s eyes went wide and her smile split her face near in half when the masked stallion sang his verse. That voice - that rhythm - it was just too cool. There was definite fun to be had with this one. Without missing a beat she grabbed Mask’s hoof with her own and pulled, spinning him in close so she could dip him. Wiggling her eyebrows mischievously,  the mare answered his question.

“I am hip.”

Laughing, she set the stallion free and bounced back, tossing her voluminous mane out of her eyes, “Well, Mr. Mask,” she said, “It’s your turn. Give me the spin!”

Her command was emphasized by a rather unflattering rumbly of the tumbly. The coffee-coloured mare seriously, desperately, needed something delicious to fill the void. She laughed harder and rubbed a hoof behind her head, “First stop...someplace with food? Of the tasty variety. Real tasty. The tastiest! And before the night is done, I want to hear that baby sing for me.”

She pointed at the case the Mask had with him, her eyes burning with curiosity. Birdy wasn’t one to hide her feelings!