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[SOLO] A Check Up (Rep x Dexter)

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[SOLO] A Check Up (Rep x Dexter)
« on: April 18, 2020, 06:48:56 PM »
Rep had closed the bar for a day and decided that he needed to have a day off. He didn't like work, and even though he left most of the running of the bar day to day to other people, he still ended up getting called in at unexpected fucking hours of the day for some crisis or other. If it was closed, the sheer number of things which could go wrong were massively -  though not completely - diminished. He didn't want to stay indoors either when he was having a day off because for sure someone or other would ask him to do something and he just wasn't in the mood to do it. So he was going out, because out was where he wanted to fucking be right now.

Following up on leads on Dexter had come to nothing, not one fucking person in this godforsaken town had heard about the prick or his labs. He wasn't sure what he expected, the kind of people who came to bars like his weren't usually the kind of people to frequent laboratories belonging to ridiculous scientist losers.

Stepping out into the street, he immediately felt that old pull of power, the desire to just stretch out his legs - his true legs - and just fucking run and maybe kill something. But it wasn't as simple as that, nothing was ever simple, and in the city it always felt so fucking far away from forests and wide open spaces where he could tear through nature like the hunting machine that he was.

Flitting through familiar routes and alleyways he beelined to an old dive of a club, with a buzzing sign, a bouncer with a missing eye and the kind of clientele who didn't really invite humans into their midst. It wasn't a forest but with enough substances sometimes he could pretend it was, and with his vicious rejection of human comfort from any regular angle at all, he could get a little bit of intimacy in the form of feverish dancing.

It was different tonight though, he could feel it from the moment he leaned on the bar, a difference in the energy of the patrons, a bit of electric nervousness on the air, something delicious and new. It set him on edge too, and he forewent his usual hit just to keep his wits about him. He probably should have listened to that instinct and held onto it, because once the music got going and nothing major happened, he found himself tempted to just relax and before long he was a few drinks down and more besides and was in the middle of a bouncing thrashing pit of dancers, his nose numb and olfactory senses crammed up with sweat.

Towards the end of the evening he took a break, heading outside for a smoke and stepping into the piss-smelling alleyway where two people ignored him in the throes of making out over a big steel bin. He growled low in his throat and moved away from them.

"Fucking disgusting." he spat in annoyance.

Another figure stood off to one side, dressed in a long dramatic cloak and wearing what looked like a backpack underneath it, he ignored them at first, taking a long irritable draw of his cigarette which he could hardly fucking taste.

"Do you know what night it is?" the figure said, and Rep stopped with the smoke half way to his mouth, eyes wide.

"It's been five years." and a cruel, familiar chuckle. "Omega."

It was one fluid motion as Rep swung to face the figure, shifting into his much larger form in an explosion of fangs, fur and claws, but he never got to make contact with him, instead finding his strength failing him almost immediately and slumping helplessly to the other man's feet.

Dexter stepped over the prone form. "It's time for your checkup." he said as more waiting bodies emerged from the shadows. "Bring him back to me." he said.