#chcsingdrecms

[pittmngrmoved]

@chcsingdrecms sent [ ice  pack  ]  sender  wraps  an  ice  pack  in  a  towel  and  presses  it  gently  where  it  hurts - from ladybird on chcsingdrecms

Robby hisses as the ice pack makes a connection with his cheek. Oh, that's going to bruise. Combatitive patients are nothing new but some of them are more of a struggle to deal with than others.

It is only after they get him sedated and handled does Robby actually take the time to deal with his own wound. Though, it's the woman before him that manages to convince him to slow down for a minute.

He can't have his student doctors worried about him.

"I'm fine. It's not the first time I've been punched." He takes over holding the ice pack, pressing it to his throbbing cheek and trying not to wince as moving his lips pulls at the split lip there.

"This happens sometimes. Hazards of the job. We deal with it."

[fckindiabolicxl]

“You’re staring again. Should I take that as an invitation?”

❝ Ya think? m in th' mood fer some comp'ny, if y' catch m' drift. ❞ One hand's held out, the other's fiddling with a lit cigarette just shy of his mouth. Shirt's unbuttoned, an obvious invite to add to the mix. Lips curl in that infamous smirk. Hazel eyes wander over Will, staring a bit too long at his feathers.

A grunt. ❝ Drinks're on th' kitchen table an' some migh' be scattered abou' — 'elp y'self, flyboy. ❞ Accent cuts through the chatter from the television across from the couch.

[noblepursuiits]

“I’m not just here for good days. I’m here for the bad ones, too.” from fritz on chcsingdrecms

Puzzled glance. ❝ What - what makes ya think I'm havin' a bad day, hon? Think I jus' slept th' wrong way, is all. ❞ He counters, turning to face her then as he stretches. Exaggerated groan, uniform shirt lifting some over his stomach. Roll of shoulders.

Across his desk is scattered a PADD showing several patients' x-rays, running analytics in the background. ❝ 'm fine. Stress ain't struck me dead yet. ❞

[lxwbringr]

✴️ - trying to tend to bad burns somewhere on their body - from fritz tho on chcsingdrecms

❝ Fritz. ❞

There was no bite behind the bark. No harshness, no command. His forearm jerked when she applied the cream. Road rash-type burn from wrist to elbow. Beside her sat a small box of bandages and scissors, tweezers. Idle twitches. Skin reacting to the cold. His fingers flexed, curling in on themselves as he tried to hold still.

She was so sweet, though. Offering to help after he'd shown up to his apartment doorstep looking worse for wear.

Behind him hung his shredded vest and jacket, silver-gray scuffs across the chestpiece. Shirtless? No. Down to that dark tank top that hugged his broad frame like a second skin. His cheek was bruised, chin gathered some faint scratches.

His teeth dug into his tongue, swallowing a hiss. With her patting at the open wound, the soapy cloth stung. Who knows what else he'd picked up from the tumble a couple roadie-punks gave. Apparently a lot of glass and grit. He'd kept up the chase despite his uniform's disrepair. Helmet gained some new marks.

In the end, one earned a hole through the head and the other was cuffed for processing.

A sigh. Hazel eyes flicked from her face - noting that cute little scrunch her nose got when concentrating - to the mess of bloodied tapwater in a cup filled with debris.

❝ I'm positive I'll make a full recovery. Takes more than a scrape to bring down a Judge. ❞

[lxwbringr]

a kiss to convince them not to leave bed in the morning. - more kisses for fritz pls

❝ Mm. Sneaky, but not enough. ❞

The judge's voice was hoarse. Thick from sleep. A lovely rumble that countered the quiet. Already he heard movement. Sensed the bed dipping. A hand caught her forearm as she slipped free, fingers sliding down to gently intertwine. Ticklish stubble pressed to her inner wrist. He was slow in sitting up, all mussed hair and adorable pout.

Above them, the light fixture hummed, casting an ethereal glow towards both bodies. Shadows cast were long, stretching across the covers and flooring in the small bedspace.

❝ Don't go just yet. You forgot something. ❞ In a swift move he tugged her back into his lap, both hands cupping her face, under her jawline. Studying her with those tender hazel eyes.

Drinking in how pretty she looked even when they were both a mess.

In the next blink his mouth found hers, nose brushing as his head tilted. Lightest sigh against her skin, warm breath tickling her face. Tongue licking at her lower lip, wanting to be let in to draw her breaths into him. Soft, sweet, chaste.

Something that would definitely make a lasting impression once she left.

[lxwbringr]

10-60 ‼️ at a certain neighbor's address that the judge knows very well ;)))

❝ Urgent 10-60 at Rowdy Yates Block. Responders needed. Suspects in connection with the slaying of four judges have attempted B&E, aggravated assault, and assault with a deadly weapon. ❞ His radio crackled to life, hissing and spitting the tinny voiceover.

Shit.

Head tilting, he brought the gauntlet close. Short, sharp, but collected. ❝ Dredd to Control. Responding to 10-60. ❞

❝ 10-4, Judge. ❞

Shit. Shit. Shit. That was an all-too-familiar address.

Above his wrist blossomed a map of the city. A pinch made it shrink, a flick; expand. Scannable with his visor, red tracking dots blinked erratically. Pinging. Three of them in the same section as his place, too.

Per his calculations, he could be there in fifteen. He wasn't that far off. His former assignment, armed robbery, had put him about a block and a half away.

Were they after Fritz?

What for? And why?

As both hands closed around the Lawmaster's handlebars, he couldn't help feeling the hairs on the back of his neck rise. Cold dripped down his spine, eyes fixated on the bright digital clock. Traffic was no issue. Mega-highways were no issue.

The throttle roared, and he was off in a cloud of dust and drifting paper.

Blurs of color and noise whipping past his helmet. Riding easy between the gaps of moto-vans and branded vehicles. A dance he knew. And handled exceedingly.

The megablock - a brutal concrete monolith - juts out like a towering statue in reddish pollution haze. It came closer, and closer. South gate entrance appearing as a mouth full of blunted teeth. Windows reflected sunlight. People went in, and out, like clockwork.

Pedestrians backtracked, tripping over themselves as he glided into the curb. Swinging a leg around, he rose with his Lawgiver in hand. Safety off.

No one dared get in his way.

Striding into the open atrium, he quickly located the elevator and punched in the floor number. The mechanism groaned and whirred, clanking as cables tightened. Ascension.

❝ Dredd to Control. Have paramedics on standby at my GPS. Going in. ❞

[lxwbringr]

💋 from fritz on chcsingdrecms

All he'd done was deliver some flour. Well, half a bag. Kind of.

The rest had been put to greater use - setting the fear of grud into the creeps who'd been determined to bust her door down.

Hero? Just a citizen. A nobody. Someone who abhorred the perversion of justice — and the twisting of justice's arm into blind vengeance.

Plain and simple, this was. Retaliatory.

For his efforts he'd earned a peck to the cheek, a chaste thing that made his body buzz with an energy he'd never paid much attention to. His heart gave a kick, and at first he thought he was going into cardiac by his biometric readings.

No, just a jump in noradrenaline and dopamine.

Focus slipped like sand through his fingers. His gaze flicked down to the torn plastic, white explosion and - thankfully - unconscious bodies. ❝ You. Y - you should phone this in. Alert the Justice Department - ask for a pat-wagon, mention suspects for iso. ❞

[lxwbringr]

letting their hand hover before finally touching -- from hawthorne on chcsingdrecms

Voice is hoarse. Lips are drawn back from teeth in a pained grimace. His pistol's fallen a few feet away, and he'd retrieve it, but — stuck. Literally.

Chasing a perp had inadvertedly led to both jumping out a window over an unfinished, debris-laden construction site. Lighting up the criminal with an incendiary; dead before he hit the ground. Body a smoking mess.

And him?

Skewered. Shard of rebar pierced his chest. Red blossomed over his uniform. Puddling in the grooves between plates. Point had missed his spine by an inch. His lungs burned. Hollowed, rattling breaths.

❝ Don't. Keep your hands by your side, cit - citizen. Unlawful physical or carnal contact with a Judge can result in six months' sentencing... ❞

Gloved hand grasps the android's wrist before releasing, too weak to maintain. Felt the fibers move. Plastic hard, yet malleable. Head's provided some strange comfort - if you could call it that - by a concrete slab. Chunks of paint missing from his helm, dark-tinted visor webbed with cracks.

❝ What - ? What are you doing — ? ❞