when I used to do arnis (filipino stick fighting/martial arts, which has a handful of different names, but that’s what the group I practiced with called it) we practiced chokeholds and I, understandably, was kind of freaked out about the idea of being choked even though I understood it wasn’t real.
we were doing triangle chokes. to clarify how that works, you’d be facing someone (we’d usually run through some brief drill before this to simulate a “fight” that someone would “lose” and end up positioned for the chokehold) with their throat pressed to your bicep and your stick against the left side of their neck, resting against your own shoulder, to keep them in place. your stick and arm together would make a triangle shape with someone’s head in the center---that’s where the name comes from---and you’d press in against the side of their neck, not directly on the front of the throat but to one of the soft, fleshy sides on either side of the neck to restrict blood flow. (and, fun fact, not all chokeholds work by targeting the airway! some, like triangle chokes, affect circulation)
so we pair off to practice and I’m with this dude I’ll call andrew, a mild-mannered older man, and he walks me through it. I tell him I’m nervous, and he explains that I can tap out, (which is common practice for martial arts, and means exactly what it sounds like--you tap your partner to signal that they stop. I had done this before for exercises related to joint locks and takedowns, so I was already familiar with the concept, though I was never nervous for those) whenever I feel like.
anyway, I’m still skittish, but I’ve known andrew for like a year at this point and know he’s a responsible guy to partner with for drills, so whatever. we’re doing this. we get into position. he’s got me in the crook of his arm, and he starts to press down very, very slowly. now, if you’ve never been put in a triangle choke, I’ll tell you that it feels like there’s pressure building up in your face, inside your head---or at least that’s how I remember it feeling now, years after last doing it, so take that with a grain of salt if you want. anyway, I let that feeling of pressure build a little, and then tap his arm twice, solidly. and he lets me go on the spot.
we do that a few more times. he catches me, gradually increases the pressure on my neck, and whenever I feel like I’ve hit this natural threshold of discomfort I tap out and he releases me instantly. at some point, I think, oh, he’ll stop whenever I tell him to, and it was oddly empowering.
like, I know it sounds weird to say, but I was what, sixteen at the time? and like most kids I had never gotten much of a say in what happened to me or my body---you can’t dress too boyish, it’s rude and improper, (even if I just wanted to wear what cis boys would in that same situation), you can’t refuse physical affection in polite company, even if it’s from people you despise---it was novel to me to be able to give my no and have it respected instantly and without question.
andrew’s turn to practice ends, and mine starts. I put him in the chokehold and he corrects my stance so I do it properly, and I start to actually choke the guy. now, if letting someone practice their chokehold on you is nerve-wracking so is being the one to do the choke, in an equal and opposite way---I did martial arts for years, and I never got entirely comfortable with hitting another person with force, even though they always consented to it! fuck, I do taekwondo now (sort of, I’m bad about actually showing up), and I’m still hesitant to strike up until my partner pretty much up and tells me to go for it already.
anyway, I’m a bit shy about this whole choking business, so I go in slow as a snail (to be fair, you’re always supposed to go slow for safety reasons during any chokeholds or joint locks or takedowns, but I’m going extra slow), pressing into the side of andrew’s throat with my stick, and after several moments he taps my shoulder once, firmly, and I break the triangle to let him out.
we do this until my turn to practice the chokehold is over, and then the guy who runs the class stops everybody to tell us to break up and find new partners to practice with, and I make a beeline for one of my favorite partners, one of the few other women in the class, and one of only two female black belts, which left her as one of my only options for a role model. I’ll call her edith! edith was blunt, funny, a no-nonsense teacher, and I thought she was the coolest.
edith had been practicing there for fifteen years and, unlike andrew, who was a straightforward, no-surprises kind of guy, would mess with you. she’d sometimes break out of the routine of the drill we were supposed to be doing to try something else she knew---because she’d been practicing arnis for about as long as I’d been alive at the time, and blindside me. I remember once we were doing this drill, a fast-paced one, swaying around the room, our sticks clashing loudly, and she snaked her stick around my arm to catch my elbow and pull me in, twist my arm behind my back, and tease me. she said I was stiff and predictable, which was embarrassing advice to get, but also hard to be upset about when the whole situation was fun for me.
anyway. I went over to her immediately so she could choke me next
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vox using an outdated phrase (pivot to video) vs alastor using modern phrases (he’s pissy, that’s the tea) in Stayed Gone means so much to me
(“pivot to video” isn’t a very old phrase—it’s only been out of use for like a decade—but while it hasn’t been all that long, by definition, it’s def outdated, especially in the tech world.)
it shows really well how the two are mirrors of each other in that they aren’t identical and they aren’t opposites, but they are connected to each other. There are a ton of parallels (character designs, old vs new, “video killed the radio star,” though it is almost switched in this case, etc.) which make it like super fucking obvious that they know each other very well.
also the fact that every other time we have seen alastor mocking others, he does it in a very disconnected and uncaring way, but with vox he is clearly trying to rile him up and is almost childishly arguing with him. There was no attempt to actually ‘win’ the argument, he was just trying to piss him off. He didn’t abandon his typical traits obviously, but he and vox’s public argument thing def felt more like petty bickering between two people who are very close but are also on weird terms and no one is really sure exactly where they stand with each other (not even them lmao)
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Mike Wheeler as quotes from Eddie Kaspbrak's gay-ass pov.
...like a secret name. A secret identity. A way to be people that had nothing to do with their parents' fears, hopes, constant demands.
…how important it was for creeps like them to sometimes be different people.
He fell in love with her a little that day — her shining blonde hair falling to the shoulders of her culotte dress, which was a cool blue.
Dear God, if You are there, please believe me when I say I don't want to hurt Myra.
There you go, Eddie — you hurt her again.
…he might have felt sorry for her if his heart had not already been so filled with terror for himself.
“I'll come back to you if I can, Marty.”
“How about a lick on your Rocket?” “Your mom wouldn't approve, Eddie”
“I'll chance it”
“Okay, f*g,” Henry said.
His eyes dropped momentarily to the floor, hunting for the knife.
“Come on down and play, Eddie,” the voice on the other side of the fence said. … He was Belch but he was also the leper.
...the face of the leper, all sunken eyes and wrinkled snarling mouth — all disease, all sickness, was stamped into that face.
…a disembodied Voice would begin to thunder in the church: Not worthy! Not worthy!
Damned to Hell! Damned to Hell!
…he would lean his bike against the wooden fence and watch the trains go by.
And for perhaps the first time in all the years he had known her, he felt that he could love her safely. Was that part of the going away?
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