Red District. Somewhere between romance and darkness. In the night this part
 of Grand Plauche is humming with life, people filling streets, looking for
 the hottest new club or just waiting for something /totally hip/ to happen.
 Yes, it's humming with life, and creeping with unlife. You might pick out a
 group at a corner or you might just notice that cold and soulless grin on the
 person just passing by, maybe you don't even see them. But you can feel the
 cold sneaking up your spine, a sensation somewhere between excitement of
 something unknown and mysterios, and the pure urge to gag.

Well known for its nightlife and one of the central meeting points for
 vampires and fanatics you'll sooner or later find the Blood Dolls. From the
 outside, in the parking lot, you hear dampened bass, people catching a breath
 of fresh air and a line of visitors, waiting for their /in/ to the scene of
 drinking synthetic blood or upscale cocktails. Inside you'll meet the bizarre
 world of the /undead/ (or whatever you want to call them). The floor is
 taking you with waves of loud music onto the dance floor where people of all
 sorts get their freak on in all kinds of styles. From an almost victorian
 dress to punk-style leather outfits you'll find everything the newest vampire
 fashion requires. In the dimmed atmosphere of the club you may have a hard
 time figuring out who's fanger and who's banger, but in the end of the night
 you'll get your money's worth -- one way or another.

Nick enters the club by waving around with his badge, showing his
 working-face: Tired, numb and slightly pissed off. His P94 is holstered on
 his belt and he keeps his leather jacket on to cover it up for the
 unobserving eye. His eyes scan the room carefully and while he's trying to
 make his way to the bar he dodges vampires as good as he can. And he does
 remarkably well, almost dancing in his moves around groups he works the floor
 pretty fast, steel-blue eyes looking for someone who seems to be in charge.

The one in charge isn't out on the floor. Not in a findable location, at the
 very least. The balcony that overlooks the entire club has the lights on,
 however, with Elena lounging against the railing. Addison is with her;
 apparently, Caleb's words the other evening got to her more than she would
 like, and she's been calling her Human up to her balcony more and more often
 as a result. The less time the girl spends out on the floor, the better.

But it doesn't mean that those eagle eyes of Elena's aren't watching over her
 club, ensuring that nothing is happened. Nothing escapes her view from up
 here, especially not a man who has a gun at his hip and a badge waving
 around. Obviously, the man is looking for something or someone, and it's
 fairly likely that she's the one who is being looked for.

One hand goes to her intercom, and she barks something in Russian to the
 person on the other end. Shortly after, a bouncer approaches Nick, indicating
 that the person he is looking for is right this way.

Addison's been a little torn. She does enjoy her job, the attention, the
 conversation, the interaction, but she's also quite content to keep Elena
 company. So she's spent less time dancing and more time up in that private
 balcony of Elena's. In some ways, that's fine with her--she's always got
 other friends she can socialize with in her spare time. She's settled on one
 of the couches in Elena's private area as she watches the vampire and her
 less-than-happy expression. Trouble of some sort. She only hopes it's nothing
 //too// bad.

When he finally reaches the bar Nick starts looking in his inside pocket for
 the picture he brought to show the barkeeper -- the one person in a club that
 knows and sees everything. Always. When he finally finds it a bouncer taps on
 his shoulder. As Nick notices on first glance that he's /likely/ a vampire he turns
 around, his eyes showing a short flash of fear until a shadow runs over his
 face just a second later, making room for a more composed look. He narrows
 his eyes, tilting his head slightly as the bouncer shows him the way and nods
 eventually. Then he leaves the bar, following the him. Alone. Without his
 partner. While his movements are still elegant and untroubled his whole chest
 and thighs seem more tense than before, his hands checking instinctively
 badge and weapon, allowing no moment of insecurity. He takes out his phone
 and starts texting Kate: 'Inside BD, been made, could use backup'