Here’s renowned self-defense instructor Kelly McCann talking about rage and it’s place in a fight. He also talks a little bit about legality and why jumping in fists swinging just isn’t a good idea.
When working with this in a writing context, it’s important to remember when you’re building characters to moderate their aggression. Combat is about control, controlling your opponent and keeping control of yourself. It’s important not to confuse guided rage with berserker, and also important not to confuse those things with “professional combatant”. No matter who they are, your characters are going to be working within the boundaries of some sort of legal system.
So, try not to go hog wild.
/I got some new reaction pictures so take a stab at the ask box, yeah? Cools.\
"I think I could manage… Somehow." William wrapped an arm loosely around her waist, copying the gesture he often pulled when she was on the cusp of sleep. "But, maybe not between us?" He pouted at her smirk. Always playing. Dammit, she was cute.
Yet her next sentence threw him ever so slightly off guard. Of course he knew that there was certainly things—feelings, worries—that Yumi didn’t share with him. It pissed him off, but he never brought it up. ”Yeah, yeah.” He nudged the top of her head with his chin. “He is a fucking therapy dog. Its gonna be awesome, but dammit, he’s not sleeping between us!”
Grabbing her hands, William extended his arms and took a step back. His eyes traveled her body up and down. Completely in love. His infamous half smirk grew on his face. “Yeah, guess so. What are you doing right now? Because I, like usual, am doing jack shit. Except maybe having incredible sex with my fiance, but… That could be postponed. I guess. Maybe.”
"Alright perhaps not right between us…." Yumi finally conceded with another one of her small smiles. "But I just know he’ll end up sleeping in our bed regardless."
It will be our little family.
Yumi liked the sound of that. Their little family. She smiled again, peaceful. Untroubled for that time. Though at William’s suggestion she looked surprised, taken back even.
"What is this I hear? William postponing sex? Wow, I might get the impression that you’re going to like Eden more than myself." She was joking of course. "Come on then, let’s go get Eden some welcome home presents."
"I said maybe, dipshit." He smirked and drew closer. His lips found a fading mark on her neck from a previous tryst. "Maybe."
William moved his hands to her waist and started sway. Slowly he moved his feet and the two began to twirl in circles in the tight room. He smiled. Dancing. There had been a time where such actions seemed impossible. The happiness unlikely.
"Mhm, and how are we getting downtown? Could we…" He curled a piece of hair behind her ear. "I know you hate her but…"
Dreaming was a dangerous activity. The sweet tastes explode and branch out from the tip of the tongue and spread to the very reaches of the fingertips. Soon, it’s overwhelming. Reality becomes increasingly distant and soon enough the body tends to fight it off.
So he woke up.
William muttered his thanks under his breath amidst a torrent of swears. Water burned his throat. Sweet turned bitter. Turned to acid. This wasn’t a time for dreaming. No matter how desperately he wanted it to be. This little conversation, the buds of friendship that were forming on the olive branch this unique situation had proposed, was too good, too close for him. Nightmares would have been sweeter than the reality he chose to live.
His eyes roamed around the room. Small, compact. Two small to house their competing egos. He raised a hand to his temples, attempting to rub out the migraine before it formed. Step away. Get out. Breathe your own air. William let his eyes fall shut. Closed. Away from everything he had felt moments ago. Alone and safe.
Any bought of friendliness was shoved away; any semblance that there might be a place for friendship - a foolish idea - was dashed to the ground. At least, that was the way it was was beginning to feel. Back to their old tricks, their old banter. Snipping and scowling at each other, barely able to stand one another for two whole minutes. Their only common goal was to stay alive.
And it didn’t seem to Yumi they were doing a fantastic job of that either.
Slowly she moved from the bed, letting William stew, or whatever it was that he was doing. A few times she cast glances is way before quickly averting her eyes again, letting them fall lifelessly on the TV still rambling on and on about something. She didn’t care what.
Still. No matter what else happened, for that moment something had changed between them. Yumi knew it, and she knew that William knew it as well. There was a chance for them to be civil, hell, maybe to even not be enemies.
Was it possible that they could be friends?
Now that was overthinking things.
Still as she stole another glance she saw the boy rub his temples. “Are you alright? Is there something else I can get you?”
A blare of a train cut through his repose. The meditation cut short rendered its effect useless. Irritation rekindled in his stomach. The horn blew twice more. William scrunched his eyes shut, as if further depriving his sight could block the sound as well. Or, better yet, return him into the point of safety out of which the blast had rattled him.
The hotel room looked more like a prison cell when he opened his eyes. One point of entrance or egress. It even opened with a key that had to be validated by some sort of authority. Only difference was the roommate and the option to leave. Though that was up for debate. Seemed rather circular when he began to think about it.
He leaned back on the pillows, wincing as the healing muscles contracted. Fuck. He was impatient. Something Stewart would chastise him on given any opportunity. His entire job depended upon patience. Chose the wrong goddamn test subject then. He pressed his fingers through the bandages and searched his abdomen for the broken bones. They weren’t hard to find. He’d become quite adjusted to finding the source of pain. In one swift movement, before he could talk himself out of it, William rose to his feet. Planting his weight on the mattress, he breathed deeply through the pain. Exhaling quickly and expanding his rib cage to hollow his stomach. It didn’t take much. The time chained to the wall had seen to that. The vacuum had the effect he wanted though. Skin stretched taught over his ribs.
His lips a straight line, William hooked his fingers around the exposed underside of the bone. One quick push with his thumb and it cracked. Out of the lung tissue. Broken off. Pupils dilated. The carefully composed liquids that passed as sweat instantly beaded his brow. His firm stance broke. Air flew back into his lungs. His body fell hard backwards. Out of his control.
Not the reason he typically associated with grabbing a mattress.
Blindly, he jutted his arm out in search of the phone on the end table. Luckily the thing was ancient and the receiver was connected to the handset. Another blind hit and he reached the front desk. Lucky.
"Hehhey yeah. Uh, do you hav-ve a standard usssssb and wall ad-adahpter? I muh-st ha-have le-left mine at hhhome.”
Photos of kids going to school in various parts of the world.
This speaks volumes.