The back entrance to the building had a very sturdy door. The staff within could be fed into the narrow street beyond with an easy push upon the horizontal bar. However, it could not be opened from the outside without the appropriate key.

A cloud of dirty colored smoke billowed in from the main thoroughfare on a seemingly random course, carried upon the night’s chill breeze. It wisped and traced along the brickwork following air currents, catching itself in a mini whirlwind that also danced a few ripped pieces of note paper in a ballad viewed by only the seemingly empty alley.

The cloud of smoke fled the tiny hurricane and pressed itself against the solid door, drifting down and then slinking beneath the slit at the bottom, fingering along the floor and then against the wall of the corridors, blending in with its neutral paint scheme.

The haze drifted around the corridor and then up some back stairs, into a darkened room. A maze of curious starts and turns, the cloud’s trail was now purposeful as it sought the source of the pumping music, which send vibrations along the air currents, soundwaves causing the smoke to tremble.

It found what it needed after a patient hour and a half, in the form of a passed out man at the back of the darkened room of pulsing colored lights and thumping sounds of industry. The smoke took on a form that personified it, before the form of a naked youth who presented as in his late teens, materialized in its place. Five minutes of mad scrambling had him dressed in black pants that were tighter as well as lower at the hips than his usual style, but this was not a time for Leesh to be fussy. The electric blue shirt was a little broader across the shoulders than necessary, but at least the boots were a snug and comfortable fit.

With a thin wallet found in the back pocket of the pants and a small amount of currency still within it, Leesh left the drunken man in his underwear and headed for the bar on the opposite side of the room, in order to spend his newly acquired wad of cash.

Weaving around tables at the edge of the dance-floor, the underage lesser demon believed he was home-free. A mischievous glint appeared in his dark gray eyes as he delicately fingered his dusty brown layer-cut hair out of his face and tucked loose strands behind his ears, even as his skewed smile found its way upon his face.

A chair moved back, a dull screech of wood-on-wood accompanying it, in the way of the smoke demon. In it sat what looked like a man, plum colored vest, cream button-up shirt, brown slacks and spiffy looking dress shoes covering his body. The hair was dark brown, slicked back and proper looking. Glasses pinched onto the bridge of his nose, balancing carefully as they had no earpieces.

The only telltale sign was a maroon stripe going across his face. Maybe it was a tattoo, or some cult thing. Either way, it didn't take much away from his proper look, or so he liked to think.

"That wasn't very nice," he said, looking into a half-empty (half-full?) glass in his hand.

Apoth was feeling, to put it nicely, godlike tonight.

Leesh's grin widened even as his gaze shifted to the left and then the right before he bent forward at the waist slightly so he could deliver a theatrical whisper in a rather loud tone of voice, to be heard above the music.

"What wasn't very nice?" he requested, though well he knew. He was surprised that somebody had noticed actually, but he was proud of his handiwork. It had been a most excellent stealth job.

Logically, the dear should have been upset considering his 'stealth job' had been discovered, but he did enjoy a good strut.

"That man will catch a cold." The god finally looked up at Leesh, a sparkle in his eyes which belied the dead seriousness of his face. He then waved to an empty chair at the table, inviting the demon to sit.

"You should apologize."

"The alcohol should keep him warm," Leesh pointed out with a grin that was all teeth. He sat, then looked utterly surprised by the suggestion of an apology. "Why, I spared him his underwear. More than I had on me at the time. But... don't you think it looks rather nice on me?" Leesh splayed himself upon the chair most dramatically, arms opening and legs stuck out ready to trip any unsuspecting patrons before he claimed his limbs back to himself and waited for a fitting reaction from the other.

Raising an eyebrow, Apoth seemed to be debating an answer. He leaned back in his chair, taking the mug of whatever drink it was (ambrosia?) with him.

"It does look rather nice on you, if a bit mismatched and oddly sized. Especially on you." A grin spread across the face of Knowledge, and he leaned forward again. "Would you like something more... fitted?"

Maybe it was the drink talking.

"Some might say I'm a bit mismatched and oddly sized," Leesh said with a pensive look sideways, the tone of which his words were said could mean anything at all, and were open to interpretation.

Leesh had already moved on, eyeing the half full (or half empty) glass with avid interest.

"I wouldn't mind something a little more wet," he nodded at the glass the fellow held and put on his best smile.

Apoth merely shurgged at the first comment. What it meant, only he knew.

"You already have one," he said in a tone that indicated 'Duh.' To reiterate the point, he nodded to a glass that was now in front of his companion.

Leesh followed the gaze to the glass and blinked at it. Then he blinked at it again before looking back at the fellow who was looking rather comfortable upon his chair.

Taking the glass and scowling at it momentarily (and the moment was extraordinarily brief, for Leesh's greed for the liquid within quickly surpassed any irk for the tone that was used against him), he skulled the fluid in one fell swoop.

He pulled a face of one who was expecting sweetness but got burning instead.

"Sorry." He sure didn't sound like it.

"What are you going to do if your friend wakes up? He'll surely notice his own clothing, you know."

Leesh shook his head and flapped a hand and screwed up his face in a manner that told the other that the drunk waking up was not his problem, nor should he spend time worrying the thought.

"I couldn't run around naked," Leesh announced, then corrected himself. "Ah, I could, but possibly wouldn't last very long in here naked." Then he seemed almost to realise something. "Wait, wait," he said, speaking rapidly as though the other fellow had been just about to interrupt, "how much of me did you see?" he squinted.

"That depends," Apoth replied. He flapped his hand in a mock of Leesh's earlier version. "What do you mean by 'see'?"

For gods, especially this one, seeing could be different than what mortals meant.

Leesh bent forward at the waist once more, leaning toward Apoth in his chair so much that the back legs lifted an inch off the ground, his palms on the knees of the leather pants as he scrutinised the fellow opposite from head to toe and back to head again, focussing on his face.

"Now you're just avoiding the question," he accused. "Why would you do that?"

"I didn't do much of anything. I've been sitting here." Except, for a split second, he wasn't. He was in the third empty chair at the table. Only for a split second, like a flicker in a film.

"Why are you so paranoid?"

Leesh huffed, then did one of his most usual things at a time when he felt behind in the conversation.

He changed the subject, only he changed it back to something previously said, which had not yet been addressed.

"How would you find me best fitted, anyway?" he asked, tapping his empty glass with a chewed gray nail. He chewed on his nails when he couldn't find a cigarette, which was (unfortunately for his nails), quite often.

He even managed a smirk of a sort.

"Clothing wise, I was thinking something like this." Apoth didn't move, nod, or even wave a hand theatrically. Just suddenly Leesh was no longer wearing his stolen clothing and was now wearing a spandex leotard which resembled something from a 70s glam rock band.

"Otherwise it's up to you."

((If you want I can change it back, and sorry if you don't like this.))

If Leesh had not known that the other was at least an Illusionist or Summoner of some description, he most certainly knew it now. He had no idea that that the being before him was a Deity (for these were beings he did not merely happen across every day) and was beginning to get quite cross.

"This... is..." his expression soured. "Not good at all. Not at all. Nope." Crossing his legs and placing one hand over his crotch, he flapped the other hand most demandingly at Apoth. "Change it back."

[it's fine - such are the dealings with a deity with questionable fashion taste]

"Oh, but that was so ugly." Apoth has his principles, and sadly, fashion was one.

Apoth tried again, giving him an old, victorian style outfit, complete with buckle shoes, pantyhose, powdered wig, ruffly overcoat and pirate shirt. "See? This is so much better."

Leesh was beginning to consider giving the club up as a total loss, and to merely wisp his way out again.

"No, pleeeease," he begged, "I would prefer to blend in."

His youth was beginning to lend his lower lip into a pout, a frown marring his brow. This was the onset of a tantrum, which would end in a smoky retreat. Anger also flared in his gray eyes, for temper was not something Leesh had a well reigned control over.

"Blend in?" Even before the words had completely left his mouth, the demon was now clad in a pair of lowrise jeans and a mesh, fishnet shirt. As an added touch, eyeliner and mascara came into existance around the eyes.

"You look beautiful."

Leesh looked down upon himself, and upon seeing jeans and the mesh shirt, was grateful for the newest change. It was a little more risque than he was used to, and he was unknowing of the makeup upon his face, so he spared the other a grin that was mostly relief but a little bit baring of the teeth, for he had not enjoyed the attempts before the third and more acceptable one.

The compliment helped ease him back into complacency.

"Thank you," he said, and looked from side to side again, to see if anyone else had noticed this new look on him.

"Third time's the charm," Apoth chanted, leaning back in his chair farther than should be possible.

"Don't worry, no one will notice. Why don't you go have fun?" The god glanced around and pointed to someone dressed similarly to Leesh, the person's back to two at the table. "Maybe that one?"

Leesh followed the gesture and peered rather intently at the male indicated.

Was he being dismissed? Should he go? He looked back at the being in the chair before him and gave face to a little frown, caught with indecision. He wanted to get away before his outfit changed into a chicken costume or something equally (or more) disturbing, but at the same time, he had got a free drink out of this fellow, and they hadn't even got to the names part yet.

Once again, he changed the subject, for he did not know how to respond.

"I'm Leesh."

There. Introduction complete. With a broad smile too.

"Apoth," he replied, a small smile on his face.

"Now go on, mingle." He again indicated the person with his back to them, who somehow seemed closer than last time.

Insistent creature.

Leesh knew when he wasn't wanted, and he didn't feel want now from Apoth, who was all but shooing him away. He stood, looked down at himself to make sure he had not sprouted feathers upon his new costume, nodded his farewell, and approached the one Apoth had gestured to - if only to continue on the path of feather-less articles of clothing.

"Hello," he greeted as he came to the side of the other.

The figure turned, a smile on the face. "Hello."

It was Apoth, though he wore a fishnet shirt and jean similar to Leesh's. His makeup was caked on a bit heavier than the demon's, but close enough. His hair was spiked up and a dark purple color, no glasses, but the maroon stripe still in place.

Surprised? Most certainly, but other than his eyebrows shooting up and the dawning realisation that he was being reflected in clothing and style meant he must be wearing makeup, interfered with the rest of his reaction.

Leesh glanced over at the table where he had been, even as he asked his question. "How many people here tonight are you?"

The table was now empty. The new Apoth, the Dark Apoth answered.

"As many as I like. Just me, for the moment, though." 'Just me' wasn't very clear. 'Just me' could be the entire club, or it could be this current body. The god didn't clarify.

He reached out a hand and ran it through the demon's hair. Just because.

"I know you're not me," Leesh declared, if only to respond with something that he knew for sure. His eyes rolled to look at the wrist that the hand in his hair belonged to, and then back at Apoth, eyeing the costume with a more critical eye, now that he could see what he was wearing upon another. "Tight," was his only remark, and he squirmed a little on the spot, so as not to displace the hand in his hair.

Which he didn't mind.

The movement was one of discomfort from his clothes, but he had a little smile on his face to match Apoth's own.

"No, not you." Meaning he wasn't him. He then smiled lazily, leaning forward, mouth just slightly open.

Sure, maybe he cheated a bit by letting off some pheromones, but that's ok.

Leesh didn't meet this advance, but he didn't pull away either. Rather stunned, he watched as it came, his partially slack-jawed stare assisting Apoth's intentions.

Leesh was very much a 'let's see what happens next' kind of guy, and though this outcome was rather predictable, he had not yet had the pleasure.

That saying, 'And the world seemed to stop...' Apoth was rather fond of that phrase. The world around them froze.

Slowly, the god came closer, brushing his lips against Leesh's. He paused and stared hard into the other one's eyes, a glint of a smile in his own. He patted Leesh's cheek, then was gone.

No poof, or snap, no nothing. Just wasn't there.

It took a second for the world to catch up and start moving again.

The god was no where to be found.

Leesh met the kiss whilst taking in stock of every sensation - recording it in his mind for playback later - and the intense look given him after his lips began to tingle when the contact was made and broken was something he'd remember a while. He found it maddeningly uninterpretable.

Disappearing like he did wasn't good either. Leesh's form sagged a little before he got the idea that this was perhaps a version of Hide and Seek.

He began to approach people, turning them around if they had their backs to him, to check for Apoth's presence.

Unfortunately, the god would not be found.

Apoth has left the building, ladies and gentlemen.

Defeated after earning himself the thirtieth or so glare from a person who he snuck a peek at, and hearing a couple of interesting (and he thought physically impossible) offers, Leesh left the club. (After purchasing the drinks he'd been after with the remains of the wallet, but before the underwear-clad fellow made a scene at the club).

Leesh left via the front door, so at least he got to keep his clothes.