Wanderer Groo
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This is a fanfiction for Tower of Gargalesis, a tickling RPG by DeusExProcella. It is also an indirect sequel of my earlier fanfic, Good Touch. Enjoy, comment, crush my hopes and dreams, etc.
Tower of Gargalesis thread: http://www.tickletheater.com/showthread.php?t=56446
Good Touch thread: http://www.tickletheater.com/showthread.php?t=61167
Home Improvement
A Tower of Gargalesis Fanfiction by Wanderer Groo
Gently…easy does it…
The human tossed and turned in her sleep. That made it easy. The blanket was discarded on the floor, the sheets bunched up in her arms. Beneath them, just below the knees, the legs were visible. Smooth. Peachy. Delicate yet fit. Slim, with each ankle bone clearly visible. Beneath those, a pair of feet. Any piece of flesh would satisfy the craving, but what beautiful feet! The human had a soft life that lent itself to the development of tender soles and unblemished toes. A closer look showed that the remains of white polish still hung grimly to the toenails. The arch was smooth, every line perfectly defined. The toes were long, almost regal in their own right. Everything about this woman spoke of class and confidence.
Which was hardly surprising. After all, she was the fabled Outsider.
Careful…careful…
It came like the tiniest of itch, like a single finger being drawn ever-so-lightly from the big toe, traversing the arch, and sliding off the foot at the base of the heel. An annoyed flick of the foot. Not even a giggle from the head buried in the sheets. More was needed for satisfaction and sustenance. The finger came again, this time a little more insistent. A scratch up the arch, then down the arch. There was a sleepy giggle, and the untouched foot scratched the base of the tickled one. A moment of fearful silence passed, but the woman was not awakened.
Careful…don’t get greedy…
The protecting foot was tickled in turn, firm enough to elicit a reaction, gentle enough to not awaken the conscious mind. And again. And once more, this time a little stronger, then the next a little gentler.
It was so tantalizing, but also so terrible. This gentlest of tickles was nectar after so long without, but it was like nibbling a grape at a buffet. To take so little when so much was before you was maddening. It was unfulfilling. Giggles? Gales of helpless laughter was what was craved. But the risk! The Outsider was powerful, so powerful that to confront directly was folly. There was barely enough energy to manifest tickles, let alone protection.
The restraint was maddening, but it was necessary. When some strength was recovered, perhaps more options would open. For now, though, The Outsider was moaning, groggy and half-awake from the repeated tickles. It was time to return once more to the house, and watch once more from the walls.
-----
“BWAHAHAHA-no, not there, pleaWAHA-HA-HAIEEEEEE!!!”
Celine yawned loudly and slowly sat up, eyes dopey. “Huh, blurg. Wotsblix. Ermgonna bombaug.” Language was never her specialty after being unnaturally awakened.
A few shakes of the head did much to improve her mental faculties, at least to the extent that she realized that someone was laughing *quite* loudly in the dining room. Then she recalled that laughter meant imminent danger in her new world, and wakefulness came with a rush of adrenaline. She tip-toed out of her room, quietly assessing the situation. If someone was dominating another, that would make it all the easier to ambush the assailant.
She peered out into the dining room, and the battle-mind was dropped in an instant. The replacement was exasperation and annoyance, although there was a fair bit of amusement too. Aello and Spaz were tangled together by the table, the latter sitting on the former’s upper back, pinning her to the floor. A look of intense concentration was on Spaz’s face as she scratched her fingers up and down the bird mammono’s exposed ribs. Each digit was moving independently, some at different speeds, some in circles while others simply dug in deep and vibrated. The technique was clearly having the desired effect, as Aello’s gritted teeth quickly gave way to another gout of screaming and laughter.
“AYYYYYYAAAYAYAYA-HA-HA! OH MAN, (don’t stop) MERCY-HAHA-MERCYAAA-“
“EH-HEM!”
The two culprits looked up at Celine loomed over them, eyebrow twitching. Facing away, Spaz craned her neck around to see the snow-haired sorceress. But while Aello was suitably cowed, the goblin merely got the same look of unbridled joy that she always got when she and her benefactor were reunited after more than a minute apart. And it had been many, many minutes since Celine shut the door to her room with strict orders to not be disturbed.
Aello gasped in genuine pain as Spaz spun in place and sprang upwards, bare feet using the bird’s head as a springboard into Celine’s bust. Celine staggered under the impact, but had long since learned to brace for the worst of it.
With Spaz nuzzling her – and mute anyway – Celine turned to Aello. “Explain yourself, Missy.”
Like a scolded child, Aello fidgeted guiltily. “Um, you forgot to leave the door unlocked for us, so she was the only one to play with. I challenged her to a contest of who could hold in the laughter the longest while being tickled in the ribs. And, and it was really, really close! She lasted 23 seconds and I lasted, um, seven. But it wasn’t fair, see-“
“No, no, no.” Celine waved off the rest of the explanation, rubbing Spaz’s head with one hand and pointing at Aello with the other. “You. What are you doing here?”
Aello looked vaguely disappointed at not getting a chance to make her excuse. She shrugged and pointed a talon upwards. “I saw you coming here during the day, but I was already headed to a playdate. I came last night through your sunroof.”
Celine looked upward, squinting irately at the clear skies above her. “That’s not a sunroof, Aello darling, that’s a hole in the ceiling. This place has seen better days.”
“Oh.”
“Yes, ‘Oh.’ My dining room floods if it rains. There’s no hot water. The kitchen is dusty, the pantry is empty. My bedroom is drafty at night. The bathtub looks like a mold monster gave birth in it. The bird bath outside is a tickle fairy swimming pool. The stairs leading down to the basement look so dangerous I haven’t dared set foot on one, but…”
Though she spoke of annoyances, Celine only seemed to grow happier as she went on. She hugged Spaz back, tighter and tighter until the goblin was pressed so far into the generous bosom she could scarcely breath. Celine abruptly lifted her companion off the ground and began twirling her around, repeating the last word over and over again.
“But, but, but, but, but…” Spaz was light as ever, and this was a far happier occasion than any of the others where Celine had been obliged to carry her. The sorceress was making increasingly erratic steps as she lost balance, but she kept twirling, now punctuating every word with a full spin.”
“This…is…my…house!” And with a triumphant laugh, she gave in to the vertigo and sank into a chair, still holding Spaz. It was hard to see with the room spinning around her, but Spaz was grinning broadly, head flopping dizzily side to side. She probably didn’t grasp the significance, but Celine was happy, and that seemed to be enough for her. The free ride was fun, too. Celine smiled up at her, happy that someone was there to share in the moment.
Aello yawned. “So?”
“It’s mine, darling.” Celine gave her a lopsided, dizzy grin. “My home, my refuge, my castle. No more begging for a bed, sleeping in a cell, or camping in sight of the buildings. It’s comfort. It’s safety. It’s RECOGNITION. Yes, the captain finally accepted me enough to give me this. It’s on the outskirts of the village and it needs fixing. But it’s still a mansion, a mansion! Even back home the closest I got to living in one was by dating nobles. And when I’m done fixing it, it’ll be perfect.”
This time out of boredom, Aello was fidgeting again. “Okay. Great. So…wanna play?”
“Nope. Too much work to do.” Celine smiled mischievously. “I think I’ll start by fixing the roof.”
“Aw, come one!” Aello sprang before her, claws clasped together in front of her in a begging motion. “Come on, Celine, I like playing with you and I like playing with the goblin. Come on, please leave the hole. Please? Pretty please? Don’t shut me out.”
Fortunately, Celine already had a solution in mind. “Tell you what: You help me fix this place up, I’ll make a sunroof you can come in through. Deal?”
With no idea of the enormous amount of work she was volunteering for, Aello nodded eagerly.
“Good.” Celine said with an evil smirk. “Let’s get started.”
Her satisfaction over getting a free helper was short lived. Aello was childish and mischievous, quickly losing interest in mundane tasks. When she lost interest she wanted to play, and that desire quickly derailed the efforts of one of the other two workers. First while feather dusting, she hiked up Celine’s robe and ran the duster down her butt. A hilarious squeal was elicited, followed by a disarming and a command to help Spaz sweep the attic. When laughter came rolling down the stairs, Celine came up to investigate and found them dueling with straws harvested from the broom. Feeling magnanimous due to her own good progress, Celine simply brought Aello back to the kitchen and asked her to try scrubbing out some of the cookware that had come with the house.
To her credit, Aello was really trying to help. She dutifully washed out the dishes that could be salvaged from rust and grime, then hoisted the box of them outside to dry. The unprecedented half-hour of productivity ended when she came back inside. Celine was trying to try to get hot water flowing and was working intently in the very cramped cupboard space beneath the sink. Her tool was nothing more complex than an iron nail, slowly inscribing one of the heraldic runes that mages of her kind used to make their lives comfortable. Specifically, a weak heating rune. With the underside of the cupboard being shadowed, the only parts of Celine visible to the playful, distractible Mammono were her lower legs and bare feet. It took only one look before all thoughts of work were banished from Aello’s mind.
“Crap, do I make a six-pointed star or eight? Er…”
“Oh dang.” Celine realized her mistake the moment Aello sat on the exposed legs and wrapped her own around the mage’s ankles. Curled around the pipe with the only exit being the one her now-pinned legs were sticking out of, Celine was well and truly trapped.
“Aello, I am trying to work here, and I really don’t have time toOHMYGOD!”
“You’ve been working too hard,” Aello cooed, tracing a few of the lines on Celine’s foot with a talon. The foot snapped side to side, but it wasn’t going anywhere. After her initial outburst, Celine seemed to be gritting her teeth. That was fine – ‘How long can you last’ was one of Aello’s favorite games, even though she wasn’t very good at it.
“Hee hee, time for a break. Don’t hurt yourself in there.” With childish glee, she cracked her talons and began moving them over Celine’s feet. Relishing her advantage and never really one for technique, she simply tickled them rapidly all over. Sometimes giving special attention to the toes, sometimes to the heel, but generally making up with enthusiasm what she lacked in finesse. The completely helpless position of the playmate helped a lot too. Over and over, up and down, circles and slashes…she counted 49 seconds before Celine snickered, then another 18 before she cracked.
“Yaha, c’mon, stop, stahohohop! C’mon, I-I IYAHAHAHA!”
So…67 seconds. Impressive.
Aello frowned as Celine thrashed inside the cupboard, thumping the walls and screeching with increasing intensity. She relented, giving the sorceress time to catch her breath. After all, it wasn’t part of the game for people to get hurt, and she already heard a tone sound as Celine bumped her head against a pipe. If this intensity kept up, she could really hurt herself in there.
But no worries – there were plenty of games to play. “Alright Celine, now guess what I’m drawing?”
Celine grunted and snickered as a talon traced an image into her sole. No help for it – she’d have to play the stupid game. At least the initial frenzy seemed to be over. “A donut?”
“Wrongo!” Aello chirped, poking both of Celine’s big toes. “One more time, a little deeper so you feel it better…”
Celine squealed as the talon skirted around her foot again. “A happy face?”
“Right. Okay, see if you can get this one…”
“Look, darling, that’s enough play for now. I’ve really got to get back to work.” Celine didn’t really think it would work, but it was worth a shot. If nothing else, it might buy a little time to figure a way out of this mess.
The weight shifted. “Oh right. Sure.”
Amazing as it was, Celine felt the weight on her legs dissipate as Aello stood up. She had been completely at Aello’s mercy. Where Paranoia and Beelzebub had failed, an innocent bird had succeeded in trapping her. And the girl let it go, just like that. Let it never be said Mammono were all the same.
And that last statement was all the more obvious as Aello stooped to enter the space Celine just vacated. “Your turn!”
She should be pissed off, or at least annoyed. But Celine couldn’t help but laugh at the situation, at her own dropped guard and the realization that dropping her guard was okay with Aello. There was another person she could trust, and that felt great. Well, at least she could trust Aello to not rape or enslave her. That was good too.
“Aello, darling,” Celine caught Aello’s arm before she trapped herself. “Listen, I REALLY want to work on this, okay? This is fun for me. I like fixing my mansion. You’ve been a big help, and I’ll be sure to make you a wonderful sunroof. You’ve done enough. Why don’t you go home now, and come by again later?”
It was another surprise, but Aello ruefully accepted Celine’s request. She hopped over to the dining room and flapped up through the hole. A moment more was spent lingering, smiling down at Celine.
“Just remember, it’s your turn next time!”
That’s me: Celine. Outsider. Sexy, powerful, dangerous woman. Sought after by adolescent girls everywhere. What am I, a heart-throb teen idol? But she was smiling despite the thought. It was good to have friends, and odd as it sounded, it was good to be getting used to the world.
A knock on the door sounded right on time. “Spaz! Time for lunch!”
-----
Ambrose was one of the few people in town who still treated Celine with the exact same manners as the day she arrived. He was also certainly the only one who treated her with any manners the day she arrived. Big, well-armored, quiet and professional, he wore a full-face knight’s helm which left a pair of hooded eyes the only part of his body visible. Everything else was gauntlets and greaves, shoulder pads and chainmail. Plate-covered arms were now comically trying to carry three paper grocery bags.
“On the table, Dear.” Celine smiled as he huffed his way over and deposited the payload. The townsfolk did follow through on their promise to supply her food, although it was surprising to see a guard tasked for a simple delivery. Still, he was one of the faces she enjoyed seeing, even if she couldn’t see much of it. When the rest of the people were slamming doors in her face, he was always willing to answer questions without outrage or accusations. Ambrose never seemed anything more than indifferent to her, which made him the very kindest person she met that horrible first day. And now she had saved many people in town and was seen as a hero. Some fawned over Celine, others boasted of things that had done to help her. But Ambrose…still stoic and indifferent. She liked it. It made him feel honest, dependable.
And as a tiny bonus, his lack of skin exposure meant she didn’t feel the awkward sexual attraction she seemed to feel for anything breathing. Celine had long reconciled herself to the fact that she was a walking mass of hormones in this world, and it was a nice exception to be able to talk with someone without fighting down urges.
A disapproving “hmph,” escaped the helmet as Spaz bounded down the stairs. Ambrose’s normally unreadable posture became guarded, though it relaxed just as quickly when Spaz tripped on the last step and fell face-first to the floor.
“Why do you keep that thing?”
Her eyes widened briefly in shock, then narrowed.
“I’m not ashamed of her, so screw you!” Celine shot back with venom in her voice. Her face flushed with anger, lips contorted with sudden rage as she took a menacing step towards him.
“You, you useless townie, who are you to judge her?!! Damn you, and all you other arrogant, selfish pricks!”
Entirely nonplussed at the reaction, the guard stepped back, arms raised placatingly.
“S-Sorry,” Ambrose stammered.
Another step back, then a full retreat. “I’ll, uh, I’ll be going now.”
Even as the door closed behind him, Celine was regretting her outburst. The hesitation was the most emotion she’d ever seen from him. If he was scared off or held it against her, that may very well have been the end of their cordial relationship.
And honestly, she should have expected something like this eventually. Heck, she did expect it. When she first came to town with Spaz, Celine was mentally prepared to be chased off by a pitchfork (or feather) wielding mob. Instead, people seemed to be in awe. They saw her as a beast tamer, a conqueror, a dominator…and a hero. Apparently, Ambrose took a dimmer view.
She regretted her anger, but not her intent. “Screw him.”
Lunch was pleasant, the food and heat sucking away Celine’s productive intentions. The afternoon saw her relaxing on the porch swing, feet up on the railing. Soon the warmth, full belly, and comfort drooped her eyelids, and the day passed in blissful slumber.
When she awoke, the sun had sunk low and her feet had slid off the railing. Sometime during the day, Spaz had curled up next to her and was asleep herself, head resting on Celine’s lap.
Celine hesitated, her desire to work warring briefly with the surge of tender feelings.
“Ah, what the Hell. With Aello, the day was a wash anyway.” Celine moved her hand and began gently rubbing Spaz’s hair. She rocked the swing gently, feeling the quiet wind, the cool stone beneath her feet, the warm cheek on her lap.
And the sharp chin, cutting off circulation to my leg.
Spaz smiled and curled a little closer.
There are times in everyone’s life when they feel that everything is absolutely right and perfect. For a while, just a while, everything in the world is in a house, a room, a porch. When a few very special people are the universe, and the only emotion is an all-encompassing embrace of contentment. When every imperfection is a glorious work of art, every sound bringing a quiet joy, every sight worthy of remembrance to the end of time. For Celine, that moment was now. Now, on the porch of her house, Spaz beside her, her leg going numb, everything was absolutely perfect.
She began petting Spaz’s hair in long, even strokes, eliciting a purr. Celine smiled. The flute Spaz gave her those months ago could summon the giggle goblin, but it’s not like Spaz had anywhere else she had to go. Or wanted to go. Eventually, at Spaz’s mute insistence, she had become a permanent companion.
Yes, from a strictly practical standpoint, Spaz had been a hindrance plenty of times. Like that particularly disgusting time she got trapped beneath the mammoth slug alongside the victim they were there to save. By the time Celine caught up, there were two pairs of helpless feet sticking out from the bulk, and she had been obligated to carry them both home. And when the puppeteer hijacked Spaz’s body. And when the feather ants buried her upside-down, down to her hips.
Despite all the misfortune, it was never really in Celine’s nature to ditch somebody. Occasionally she asked if Spaz would like to leave for her own good, but the response was always a vehement shake of the head. It wasn’t something she would ever press. Spaz had definitely saved her ass at least once, and that was enough. Maybe more times would’ve seen Celine fall if not for the Herculean strength and loyalty of her companion. Even moreso than that, it was wonderful having someone to travel with – someone to watch her back, someone to care for and be cared for.
And even moreso than that…
“What are you, Spaz?” Celine murmured, continuing her stroking. “To me? I don’t even know.” More than an adventuring buddy. Not a lover. A pet? A crazy little sister? A daughter?
Oh, we’ll stick with ‘person who is very important to me’ and call it there.
Spaz’s eyes were open, but neither moved from that spot for a good long while.
Not until Ambrose returned.
Celine gritted her teeth as she caught sight of him, determined to maintain the affectionate position with Spaz just to prove her contempt. But as he came closer, she could see that he wasn’t here with malice in heart. His gait was shuffling, head downcast. As he ascended the steps to the porch, she could see one hand was holding a can of tomato juice, the other, fidgeting nervously.
Ambrose couldn’t rightly have missed Spaz’s prime location, but he gave no sign of disapproval.
“I, um…” he set the juice can down on the arm of the swing, freeing up the other hand to fidget. “I dropped this on the way here. Sorry, er…I mean, sorry. Yes, I’m sorry. See you around.”
“Hey,” Celine called out as he spun about. She smiled lazily up at him. “She was there for me. There when I was alone, there when I was outnumbered, there when I was…well, hypnotized, bound by webs, and about to willfully submit to Beelzebub. I’m not throwing her out.”
Ambrose shuffled his feet, hands behind his back. “Ooh, um, yeah, that’s a good reason.”
She laughed gently. “I forgive you. Now go ahead – I’m sure they’ve got something more important for you to do than play delivery boy.”
“Not really,” Ambrose shrugged. “Actually, I got off the rest of the day for agreeing to do this. No one else’ll go near this place.”
Celine gagged on her laughter, and an angry twitch went through her entire body. She looked at Ambrose and whispered, very, very quietly, “Why?”
At ease by their reconciliation, Ambrose shrugged, not immediately noticing her indignant expression. “Oh, it’s all because of the haunting. You know, how everyone who’s lived in this place for the last few hundred years have disappeared, and how the night they vanish laughter can be heard from deep within. People get spooked easily, but I figure, ‘hey, she’s the Outsider, and I’m just visiting.’ I’m sure the Captain told you all abou…t…it…”
He hesitated, catching her expression. “Er, um, I guess he didn’t tell you. I, uh, I uh…hoo, boy.”
“Um…is there anything I can do for you?”
Go jump off a…no, push the Captain off a cliff.
“Failing that, whiskey,” she hissed.
“Yeah I can do that.” From somewhere in his armor, Ambrose produced a hip flask. “Um, keep it. And let me know if you need a refill.”
He turned to leave again, but stopped and looked back. “Um, we could haul the bed out of here and back to your…you know, your room in the guardhouse?”
“My cell?” Celine asked acidly, eliciting a helpless shrug.
My home…
“Haunted? Bring it on.”
-----
Drunk. That was the only way to describe it, drunk on power and drunk on astounding good fortune. Within these walls, the laughter, the play, the tickling energy, all lent sustenance and strength to one being only. It had been forgotten what it was like, to shudder with pleasure and might as the battles unfolded. That those who came here had unknowingly restored more strength than months of nervous bottom-feeding was such astonishing luck.
There was still something a touch missing, though. The Outsider and her minions played rather than fought. Good intentions abounded, true torture entirely absent.
Starvation was no longer a problem. Now that needs were attended to…attention could turn to wants. And what better want to satisfy than one that would let the Outsider herself be challenged?
-----
Celine yawned and stretched, always pleased to have a bit of unbroken rest. Wired nerves had kept her awake the last few nights, but no ghost made its appearance. No poltergeists, no animated feathers, no nothing. She was finally letting herself believe there was no haunting. Oddly, that really only made her more nervous. She could just picture herself dropping her guard after weeks pass, only to be taken completely unaware. Exhaustion, rather than real peace of mind, caused her to fall asleep last evening.
“Maybe I should just move back to the cell,” she muttered darkly, scratching her stomach as she walked to the kitchen. “Hey Spaz! Let’s make breakfast!”
There was silence, and in that instant Celine knew there was something wrong. Spaz usually slept at the foot of Celine’s bed or a corner of the kitchen, never in her own bed like a sane person. Even if she wasn’t in either, the sound of Celine’s voice always brought a thumping through the house as the goblin raced to her side.
Now, just silence.
“Crap,” Celine breathed. “Crap. She must have overslept.”
She didn’t believe it for a moment, but she still searched. The attic. The upstairs bedrooms. The unused sitting rooms. Growing more and more frantic, calling the name, cursing her own stubbornness. Returning to search places searched before, this time in closets and under beds.
Thickly muffled, but there it was. A cry. Celine froze. It came from beneath her feet. She was on the ground floor, which meant…”
“Crap,” she said again, this time loud and angry. She walked before the basement stairs and glared downwards, swallowing a little nervously. The wood was rotted and weak, and she didn’t know how big a tumble she would take if she fell. Celine’s feet shuffled nervously, toes clenching as she thought of the rusty nails and slivers that could readily find their way into them.
Another muffled cry. Celine gingerly began making her way down. Caution overrode urgency, and she carefully grazed her foot against each stair before setting it down, searching for weaknesses and pointy bits. Though some creaked ominously, the stairs held her weight.
Which leaves me…in an unknown basement against an unknown enemy in pitch darkness. Great.
Wait…duh. Brilliant, girl.
“Light!” Accompanying the shout with a few hand motions, a bubble of luminescence appeared in her hand and sailed to the top of the room.
The walls and floor were painted white, though the color had withered with age and neglect. There were three narrow beds, each with tall posts rising from the corners and a dresser beside. And scattered about, on top of the dressers and beds, were all sorts of gear that made Celine cringe. Ball gags. Leather whips and thongs. Belts sized for waists, arms, fingers, and toes. Collars with chains, poles with straps. And, of course, feathers.
But more to the point, one of the beds was occupied, and some of the tools were in use. Spaz’s sandals were strapped over her face, effectively serving as both gag and blindfold. Two poles ran parallel to her body, each one hoisting an arm and a foot into the air. The poles themselves were tied high on the bedframe, allowing any tickler easy access to her armpits, ribs, knees and feet.
Maternal instincts were screaming at her to release the captive, but survival instincts lobbied even harder for caution. Celine stepped closer. A tear was dropping from behind the sandal that hid Spaz’s eyes. Her ribs had the red marks of “hard” tickling. Recent hard tickling.
A presence behind her. Celine twirled around, but there was nothing.
It wasn’t my imagination. “Show yourself!”
A sound like a deep hum came, followed by a faint shimmer in the wall. Like a reflection in murky water, Celine thought she saw a human shape. But it was gone just as quickly.
Then, a voice like a whisper, like a ghost. “Tonight, Sweetie.”
At once, the tension left the room. Celine’s survival instinct throttled back, letting her finally indulge her fear for her friend. She raced over and unlaced the sandals over Spaz’s face. Red-faced and bleary-eyed, the gobbling nonetheless smiled up at her as Celine undid the rest of her bindings.
Spaz swung her legs over the edge of the bed, but Celine crouched down before her, back turned. “No. I’m carrying you.”
“I’m sorry, Spaz.” It came out as a weepy mewl as Celine began carrying her up the stairs. “I’m sorry. I’m so stubborn and stupid. Something like this was going to happen, but like an idiot I ignored the warning. Let’s just get packed. We can-OW!”
Celine staggered, a sharp pain running through her foot. She quickly limped the last few steps and set Spaz down. With every step sending fresh waves of pain, Celine sat down hard on the floor just as quickly.
A quick glance confirmed her suspicions. There was a thick splinter embedded in her right foot, and those last few steps shoved it in deeper, at a broken angle to boot. Celine swallowed nervously. When it came to things she was squeamish about, operating on herself was pretty high on the list. She had no problem being injured and healed, but being forced to look at her own wounds had always made her feel nauseous. To dig out a splinter from her own foot, ever careful not to break off any bit…even the thought of it made her light-headed. Celine closed her eyes and flopped on her back, trying to get a grip. Her hands were shaking, and they’d shake while she tried to pull it out, too.
A hand grabbed her ankle. Celine gave a shout of surprise as it lifted her foot, gripping it firmly enough to resist her instinctive kick. She opened her eyes and there was Spaz, sitting cross legged as she set the foot on her lap. The goblin still looked drained from her own ordeal, but her eyes were sharp and focused on the injury.
“It hurts,” Celine whined a little, embarrassed. Embarrassed and a little surprised that a mammono was closely examining her most ticklish of ticklish spots and she wasn’t nervous at all.
Spaz gave a few gentle, experimental tugs on the wood, trying to find the path of least resistance. By tortuous millimeters, the splinter began coming out. Celine mewled a little, trying to keep her eyes dry and foot still. She was more ticklish than before, but evidently more sensitive to pain as well. She couldn’t help but twitch her foot, but that same hand kept it still, firm and gentle.
Now who’s the idiot little sister that needs helping?
Slowly, steadily, and always carefully, Spaz patiently worked the sliver until it was all the way out. As soon as she felt it slide out, Celine slid her legs around, got on her knees, and hugged Spaz. This time, it was her hugging with all her might, and Spaz hugging back gently, one hand rubbing Celine's head.
“Our…home.”
Celine blinked. Did Spaz just speak? Or was it her imagination?
Whatever.
“Absolutely,” Celine said. “It’s our home.”
She leaned back and looked Spaz in the face. “And we’re going to fight for it.”
Spaz smiled and nodded.
Tower of Gargalesis thread: http://www.tickletheater.com/showthread.php?t=56446
Good Touch thread: http://www.tickletheater.com/showthread.php?t=61167
Home Improvement
A Tower of Gargalesis Fanfiction by Wanderer Groo
Gently…easy does it…
The human tossed and turned in her sleep. That made it easy. The blanket was discarded on the floor, the sheets bunched up in her arms. Beneath them, just below the knees, the legs were visible. Smooth. Peachy. Delicate yet fit. Slim, with each ankle bone clearly visible. Beneath those, a pair of feet. Any piece of flesh would satisfy the craving, but what beautiful feet! The human had a soft life that lent itself to the development of tender soles and unblemished toes. A closer look showed that the remains of white polish still hung grimly to the toenails. The arch was smooth, every line perfectly defined. The toes were long, almost regal in their own right. Everything about this woman spoke of class and confidence.
Which was hardly surprising. After all, she was the fabled Outsider.
Careful…careful…
It came like the tiniest of itch, like a single finger being drawn ever-so-lightly from the big toe, traversing the arch, and sliding off the foot at the base of the heel. An annoyed flick of the foot. Not even a giggle from the head buried in the sheets. More was needed for satisfaction and sustenance. The finger came again, this time a little more insistent. A scratch up the arch, then down the arch. There was a sleepy giggle, and the untouched foot scratched the base of the tickled one. A moment of fearful silence passed, but the woman was not awakened.
Careful…don’t get greedy…
The protecting foot was tickled in turn, firm enough to elicit a reaction, gentle enough to not awaken the conscious mind. And again. And once more, this time a little stronger, then the next a little gentler.
It was so tantalizing, but also so terrible. This gentlest of tickles was nectar after so long without, but it was like nibbling a grape at a buffet. To take so little when so much was before you was maddening. It was unfulfilling. Giggles? Gales of helpless laughter was what was craved. But the risk! The Outsider was powerful, so powerful that to confront directly was folly. There was barely enough energy to manifest tickles, let alone protection.
The restraint was maddening, but it was necessary. When some strength was recovered, perhaps more options would open. For now, though, The Outsider was moaning, groggy and half-awake from the repeated tickles. It was time to return once more to the house, and watch once more from the walls.
-----
“BWAHAHAHA-no, not there, pleaWAHA-HA-HAIEEEEEE!!!”
Celine yawned loudly and slowly sat up, eyes dopey. “Huh, blurg. Wotsblix. Ermgonna bombaug.” Language was never her specialty after being unnaturally awakened.
A few shakes of the head did much to improve her mental faculties, at least to the extent that she realized that someone was laughing *quite* loudly in the dining room. Then she recalled that laughter meant imminent danger in her new world, and wakefulness came with a rush of adrenaline. She tip-toed out of her room, quietly assessing the situation. If someone was dominating another, that would make it all the easier to ambush the assailant.
She peered out into the dining room, and the battle-mind was dropped in an instant. The replacement was exasperation and annoyance, although there was a fair bit of amusement too. Aello and Spaz were tangled together by the table, the latter sitting on the former’s upper back, pinning her to the floor. A look of intense concentration was on Spaz’s face as she scratched her fingers up and down the bird mammono’s exposed ribs. Each digit was moving independently, some at different speeds, some in circles while others simply dug in deep and vibrated. The technique was clearly having the desired effect, as Aello’s gritted teeth quickly gave way to another gout of screaming and laughter.
“AYYYYYYAAAYAYAYA-HA-HA! OH MAN, (don’t stop) MERCY-HAHA-MERCYAAA-“
“EH-HEM!”
The two culprits looked up at Celine loomed over them, eyebrow twitching. Facing away, Spaz craned her neck around to see the snow-haired sorceress. But while Aello was suitably cowed, the goblin merely got the same look of unbridled joy that she always got when she and her benefactor were reunited after more than a minute apart. And it had been many, many minutes since Celine shut the door to her room with strict orders to not be disturbed.
Aello gasped in genuine pain as Spaz spun in place and sprang upwards, bare feet using the bird’s head as a springboard into Celine’s bust. Celine staggered under the impact, but had long since learned to brace for the worst of it.
With Spaz nuzzling her – and mute anyway – Celine turned to Aello. “Explain yourself, Missy.”
Like a scolded child, Aello fidgeted guiltily. “Um, you forgot to leave the door unlocked for us, so she was the only one to play with. I challenged her to a contest of who could hold in the laughter the longest while being tickled in the ribs. And, and it was really, really close! She lasted 23 seconds and I lasted, um, seven. But it wasn’t fair, see-“
“No, no, no.” Celine waved off the rest of the explanation, rubbing Spaz’s head with one hand and pointing at Aello with the other. “You. What are you doing here?”
Aello looked vaguely disappointed at not getting a chance to make her excuse. She shrugged and pointed a talon upwards. “I saw you coming here during the day, but I was already headed to a playdate. I came last night through your sunroof.”
Celine looked upward, squinting irately at the clear skies above her. “That’s not a sunroof, Aello darling, that’s a hole in the ceiling. This place has seen better days.”
“Oh.”
“Yes, ‘Oh.’ My dining room floods if it rains. There’s no hot water. The kitchen is dusty, the pantry is empty. My bedroom is drafty at night. The bathtub looks like a mold monster gave birth in it. The bird bath outside is a tickle fairy swimming pool. The stairs leading down to the basement look so dangerous I haven’t dared set foot on one, but…”
Though she spoke of annoyances, Celine only seemed to grow happier as she went on. She hugged Spaz back, tighter and tighter until the goblin was pressed so far into the generous bosom she could scarcely breath. Celine abruptly lifted her companion off the ground and began twirling her around, repeating the last word over and over again.
“But, but, but, but, but…” Spaz was light as ever, and this was a far happier occasion than any of the others where Celine had been obliged to carry her. The sorceress was making increasingly erratic steps as she lost balance, but she kept twirling, now punctuating every word with a full spin.”
“This…is…my…house!” And with a triumphant laugh, she gave in to the vertigo and sank into a chair, still holding Spaz. It was hard to see with the room spinning around her, but Spaz was grinning broadly, head flopping dizzily side to side. She probably didn’t grasp the significance, but Celine was happy, and that seemed to be enough for her. The free ride was fun, too. Celine smiled up at her, happy that someone was there to share in the moment.
Aello yawned. “So?”
“It’s mine, darling.” Celine gave her a lopsided, dizzy grin. “My home, my refuge, my castle. No more begging for a bed, sleeping in a cell, or camping in sight of the buildings. It’s comfort. It’s safety. It’s RECOGNITION. Yes, the captain finally accepted me enough to give me this. It’s on the outskirts of the village and it needs fixing. But it’s still a mansion, a mansion! Even back home the closest I got to living in one was by dating nobles. And when I’m done fixing it, it’ll be perfect.”
This time out of boredom, Aello was fidgeting again. “Okay. Great. So…wanna play?”
“Nope. Too much work to do.” Celine smiled mischievously. “I think I’ll start by fixing the roof.”
“Aw, come one!” Aello sprang before her, claws clasped together in front of her in a begging motion. “Come on, Celine, I like playing with you and I like playing with the goblin. Come on, please leave the hole. Please? Pretty please? Don’t shut me out.”
Fortunately, Celine already had a solution in mind. “Tell you what: You help me fix this place up, I’ll make a sunroof you can come in through. Deal?”
With no idea of the enormous amount of work she was volunteering for, Aello nodded eagerly.
“Good.” Celine said with an evil smirk. “Let’s get started.”
Her satisfaction over getting a free helper was short lived. Aello was childish and mischievous, quickly losing interest in mundane tasks. When she lost interest she wanted to play, and that desire quickly derailed the efforts of one of the other two workers. First while feather dusting, she hiked up Celine’s robe and ran the duster down her butt. A hilarious squeal was elicited, followed by a disarming and a command to help Spaz sweep the attic. When laughter came rolling down the stairs, Celine came up to investigate and found them dueling with straws harvested from the broom. Feeling magnanimous due to her own good progress, Celine simply brought Aello back to the kitchen and asked her to try scrubbing out some of the cookware that had come with the house.
To her credit, Aello was really trying to help. She dutifully washed out the dishes that could be salvaged from rust and grime, then hoisted the box of them outside to dry. The unprecedented half-hour of productivity ended when she came back inside. Celine was trying to try to get hot water flowing and was working intently in the very cramped cupboard space beneath the sink. Her tool was nothing more complex than an iron nail, slowly inscribing one of the heraldic runes that mages of her kind used to make their lives comfortable. Specifically, a weak heating rune. With the underside of the cupboard being shadowed, the only parts of Celine visible to the playful, distractible Mammono were her lower legs and bare feet. It took only one look before all thoughts of work were banished from Aello’s mind.
“Crap, do I make a six-pointed star or eight? Er…”
“Oh dang.” Celine realized her mistake the moment Aello sat on the exposed legs and wrapped her own around the mage’s ankles. Curled around the pipe with the only exit being the one her now-pinned legs were sticking out of, Celine was well and truly trapped.
“Aello, I am trying to work here, and I really don’t have time toOHMYGOD!”
“You’ve been working too hard,” Aello cooed, tracing a few of the lines on Celine’s foot with a talon. The foot snapped side to side, but it wasn’t going anywhere. After her initial outburst, Celine seemed to be gritting her teeth. That was fine – ‘How long can you last’ was one of Aello’s favorite games, even though she wasn’t very good at it.
“Hee hee, time for a break. Don’t hurt yourself in there.” With childish glee, she cracked her talons and began moving them over Celine’s feet. Relishing her advantage and never really one for technique, she simply tickled them rapidly all over. Sometimes giving special attention to the toes, sometimes to the heel, but generally making up with enthusiasm what she lacked in finesse. The completely helpless position of the playmate helped a lot too. Over and over, up and down, circles and slashes…she counted 49 seconds before Celine snickered, then another 18 before she cracked.
“Yaha, c’mon, stop, stahohohop! C’mon, I-I IYAHAHAHA!”
So…67 seconds. Impressive.
Aello frowned as Celine thrashed inside the cupboard, thumping the walls and screeching with increasing intensity. She relented, giving the sorceress time to catch her breath. After all, it wasn’t part of the game for people to get hurt, and she already heard a tone sound as Celine bumped her head against a pipe. If this intensity kept up, she could really hurt herself in there.
But no worries – there were plenty of games to play. “Alright Celine, now guess what I’m drawing?”
Celine grunted and snickered as a talon traced an image into her sole. No help for it – she’d have to play the stupid game. At least the initial frenzy seemed to be over. “A donut?”
“Wrongo!” Aello chirped, poking both of Celine’s big toes. “One more time, a little deeper so you feel it better…”
Celine squealed as the talon skirted around her foot again. “A happy face?”
“Right. Okay, see if you can get this one…”
“Look, darling, that’s enough play for now. I’ve really got to get back to work.” Celine didn’t really think it would work, but it was worth a shot. If nothing else, it might buy a little time to figure a way out of this mess.
The weight shifted. “Oh right. Sure.”
Amazing as it was, Celine felt the weight on her legs dissipate as Aello stood up. She had been completely at Aello’s mercy. Where Paranoia and Beelzebub had failed, an innocent bird had succeeded in trapping her. And the girl let it go, just like that. Let it never be said Mammono were all the same.
And that last statement was all the more obvious as Aello stooped to enter the space Celine just vacated. “Your turn!”
She should be pissed off, or at least annoyed. But Celine couldn’t help but laugh at the situation, at her own dropped guard and the realization that dropping her guard was okay with Aello. There was another person she could trust, and that felt great. Well, at least she could trust Aello to not rape or enslave her. That was good too.
“Aello, darling,” Celine caught Aello’s arm before she trapped herself. “Listen, I REALLY want to work on this, okay? This is fun for me. I like fixing my mansion. You’ve been a big help, and I’ll be sure to make you a wonderful sunroof. You’ve done enough. Why don’t you go home now, and come by again later?”
It was another surprise, but Aello ruefully accepted Celine’s request. She hopped over to the dining room and flapped up through the hole. A moment more was spent lingering, smiling down at Celine.
“Just remember, it’s your turn next time!”
That’s me: Celine. Outsider. Sexy, powerful, dangerous woman. Sought after by adolescent girls everywhere. What am I, a heart-throb teen idol? But she was smiling despite the thought. It was good to have friends, and odd as it sounded, it was good to be getting used to the world.
A knock on the door sounded right on time. “Spaz! Time for lunch!”
-----
Ambrose was one of the few people in town who still treated Celine with the exact same manners as the day she arrived. He was also certainly the only one who treated her with any manners the day she arrived. Big, well-armored, quiet and professional, he wore a full-face knight’s helm which left a pair of hooded eyes the only part of his body visible. Everything else was gauntlets and greaves, shoulder pads and chainmail. Plate-covered arms were now comically trying to carry three paper grocery bags.
“On the table, Dear.” Celine smiled as he huffed his way over and deposited the payload. The townsfolk did follow through on their promise to supply her food, although it was surprising to see a guard tasked for a simple delivery. Still, he was one of the faces she enjoyed seeing, even if she couldn’t see much of it. When the rest of the people were slamming doors in her face, he was always willing to answer questions without outrage or accusations. Ambrose never seemed anything more than indifferent to her, which made him the very kindest person she met that horrible first day. And now she had saved many people in town and was seen as a hero. Some fawned over Celine, others boasted of things that had done to help her. But Ambrose…still stoic and indifferent. She liked it. It made him feel honest, dependable.
And as a tiny bonus, his lack of skin exposure meant she didn’t feel the awkward sexual attraction she seemed to feel for anything breathing. Celine had long reconciled herself to the fact that she was a walking mass of hormones in this world, and it was a nice exception to be able to talk with someone without fighting down urges.
A disapproving “hmph,” escaped the helmet as Spaz bounded down the stairs. Ambrose’s normally unreadable posture became guarded, though it relaxed just as quickly when Spaz tripped on the last step and fell face-first to the floor.
“Why do you keep that thing?”
Her eyes widened briefly in shock, then narrowed.
“I’m not ashamed of her, so screw you!” Celine shot back with venom in her voice. Her face flushed with anger, lips contorted with sudden rage as she took a menacing step towards him.
“You, you useless townie, who are you to judge her?!! Damn you, and all you other arrogant, selfish pricks!”
Entirely nonplussed at the reaction, the guard stepped back, arms raised placatingly.
“S-Sorry,” Ambrose stammered.
Another step back, then a full retreat. “I’ll, uh, I’ll be going now.”
Even as the door closed behind him, Celine was regretting her outburst. The hesitation was the most emotion she’d ever seen from him. If he was scared off or held it against her, that may very well have been the end of their cordial relationship.
And honestly, she should have expected something like this eventually. Heck, she did expect it. When she first came to town with Spaz, Celine was mentally prepared to be chased off by a pitchfork (or feather) wielding mob. Instead, people seemed to be in awe. They saw her as a beast tamer, a conqueror, a dominator…and a hero. Apparently, Ambrose took a dimmer view.
She regretted her anger, but not her intent. “Screw him.”
Lunch was pleasant, the food and heat sucking away Celine’s productive intentions. The afternoon saw her relaxing on the porch swing, feet up on the railing. Soon the warmth, full belly, and comfort drooped her eyelids, and the day passed in blissful slumber.
When she awoke, the sun had sunk low and her feet had slid off the railing. Sometime during the day, Spaz had curled up next to her and was asleep herself, head resting on Celine’s lap.
Celine hesitated, her desire to work warring briefly with the surge of tender feelings.
“Ah, what the Hell. With Aello, the day was a wash anyway.” Celine moved her hand and began gently rubbing Spaz’s hair. She rocked the swing gently, feeling the quiet wind, the cool stone beneath her feet, the warm cheek on her lap.
And the sharp chin, cutting off circulation to my leg.
Spaz smiled and curled a little closer.
There are times in everyone’s life when they feel that everything is absolutely right and perfect. For a while, just a while, everything in the world is in a house, a room, a porch. When a few very special people are the universe, and the only emotion is an all-encompassing embrace of contentment. When every imperfection is a glorious work of art, every sound bringing a quiet joy, every sight worthy of remembrance to the end of time. For Celine, that moment was now. Now, on the porch of her house, Spaz beside her, her leg going numb, everything was absolutely perfect.
She began petting Spaz’s hair in long, even strokes, eliciting a purr. Celine smiled. The flute Spaz gave her those months ago could summon the giggle goblin, but it’s not like Spaz had anywhere else she had to go. Or wanted to go. Eventually, at Spaz’s mute insistence, she had become a permanent companion.
Yes, from a strictly practical standpoint, Spaz had been a hindrance plenty of times. Like that particularly disgusting time she got trapped beneath the mammoth slug alongside the victim they were there to save. By the time Celine caught up, there were two pairs of helpless feet sticking out from the bulk, and she had been obligated to carry them both home. And when the puppeteer hijacked Spaz’s body. And when the feather ants buried her upside-down, down to her hips.
Despite all the misfortune, it was never really in Celine’s nature to ditch somebody. Occasionally she asked if Spaz would like to leave for her own good, but the response was always a vehement shake of the head. It wasn’t something she would ever press. Spaz had definitely saved her ass at least once, and that was enough. Maybe more times would’ve seen Celine fall if not for the Herculean strength and loyalty of her companion. Even moreso than that, it was wonderful having someone to travel with – someone to watch her back, someone to care for and be cared for.
And even moreso than that…
“What are you, Spaz?” Celine murmured, continuing her stroking. “To me? I don’t even know.” More than an adventuring buddy. Not a lover. A pet? A crazy little sister? A daughter?
Oh, we’ll stick with ‘person who is very important to me’ and call it there.
Spaz’s eyes were open, but neither moved from that spot for a good long while.
Not until Ambrose returned.
Celine gritted her teeth as she caught sight of him, determined to maintain the affectionate position with Spaz just to prove her contempt. But as he came closer, she could see that he wasn’t here with malice in heart. His gait was shuffling, head downcast. As he ascended the steps to the porch, she could see one hand was holding a can of tomato juice, the other, fidgeting nervously.
Ambrose couldn’t rightly have missed Spaz’s prime location, but he gave no sign of disapproval.
“I, um…” he set the juice can down on the arm of the swing, freeing up the other hand to fidget. “I dropped this on the way here. Sorry, er…I mean, sorry. Yes, I’m sorry. See you around.”
“Hey,” Celine called out as he spun about. She smiled lazily up at him. “She was there for me. There when I was alone, there when I was outnumbered, there when I was…well, hypnotized, bound by webs, and about to willfully submit to Beelzebub. I’m not throwing her out.”
Ambrose shuffled his feet, hands behind his back. “Ooh, um, yeah, that’s a good reason.”
She laughed gently. “I forgive you. Now go ahead – I’m sure they’ve got something more important for you to do than play delivery boy.”
“Not really,” Ambrose shrugged. “Actually, I got off the rest of the day for agreeing to do this. No one else’ll go near this place.”
Celine gagged on her laughter, and an angry twitch went through her entire body. She looked at Ambrose and whispered, very, very quietly, “Why?”
At ease by their reconciliation, Ambrose shrugged, not immediately noticing her indignant expression. “Oh, it’s all because of the haunting. You know, how everyone who’s lived in this place for the last few hundred years have disappeared, and how the night they vanish laughter can be heard from deep within. People get spooked easily, but I figure, ‘hey, she’s the Outsider, and I’m just visiting.’ I’m sure the Captain told you all abou…t…it…”
He hesitated, catching her expression. “Er, um, I guess he didn’t tell you. I, uh, I uh…hoo, boy.”
“Um…is there anything I can do for you?”
Go jump off a…no, push the Captain off a cliff.
“Failing that, whiskey,” she hissed.
“Yeah I can do that.” From somewhere in his armor, Ambrose produced a hip flask. “Um, keep it. And let me know if you need a refill.”
He turned to leave again, but stopped and looked back. “Um, we could haul the bed out of here and back to your…you know, your room in the guardhouse?”
“My cell?” Celine asked acidly, eliciting a helpless shrug.
My home…
“Haunted? Bring it on.”
-----
Drunk. That was the only way to describe it, drunk on power and drunk on astounding good fortune. Within these walls, the laughter, the play, the tickling energy, all lent sustenance and strength to one being only. It had been forgotten what it was like, to shudder with pleasure and might as the battles unfolded. That those who came here had unknowingly restored more strength than months of nervous bottom-feeding was such astonishing luck.
There was still something a touch missing, though. The Outsider and her minions played rather than fought. Good intentions abounded, true torture entirely absent.
Starvation was no longer a problem. Now that needs were attended to…attention could turn to wants. And what better want to satisfy than one that would let the Outsider herself be challenged?
-----
Celine yawned and stretched, always pleased to have a bit of unbroken rest. Wired nerves had kept her awake the last few nights, but no ghost made its appearance. No poltergeists, no animated feathers, no nothing. She was finally letting herself believe there was no haunting. Oddly, that really only made her more nervous. She could just picture herself dropping her guard after weeks pass, only to be taken completely unaware. Exhaustion, rather than real peace of mind, caused her to fall asleep last evening.
“Maybe I should just move back to the cell,” she muttered darkly, scratching her stomach as she walked to the kitchen. “Hey Spaz! Let’s make breakfast!”
There was silence, and in that instant Celine knew there was something wrong. Spaz usually slept at the foot of Celine’s bed or a corner of the kitchen, never in her own bed like a sane person. Even if she wasn’t in either, the sound of Celine’s voice always brought a thumping through the house as the goblin raced to her side.
Now, just silence.
“Crap,” Celine breathed. “Crap. She must have overslept.”
She didn’t believe it for a moment, but she still searched. The attic. The upstairs bedrooms. The unused sitting rooms. Growing more and more frantic, calling the name, cursing her own stubbornness. Returning to search places searched before, this time in closets and under beds.
Thickly muffled, but there it was. A cry. Celine froze. It came from beneath her feet. She was on the ground floor, which meant…”
“Crap,” she said again, this time loud and angry. She walked before the basement stairs and glared downwards, swallowing a little nervously. The wood was rotted and weak, and she didn’t know how big a tumble she would take if she fell. Celine’s feet shuffled nervously, toes clenching as she thought of the rusty nails and slivers that could readily find their way into them.
Another muffled cry. Celine gingerly began making her way down. Caution overrode urgency, and she carefully grazed her foot against each stair before setting it down, searching for weaknesses and pointy bits. Though some creaked ominously, the stairs held her weight.
Which leaves me…in an unknown basement against an unknown enemy in pitch darkness. Great.
Wait…duh. Brilliant, girl.
“Light!” Accompanying the shout with a few hand motions, a bubble of luminescence appeared in her hand and sailed to the top of the room.
The walls and floor were painted white, though the color had withered with age and neglect. There were three narrow beds, each with tall posts rising from the corners and a dresser beside. And scattered about, on top of the dressers and beds, were all sorts of gear that made Celine cringe. Ball gags. Leather whips and thongs. Belts sized for waists, arms, fingers, and toes. Collars with chains, poles with straps. And, of course, feathers.
But more to the point, one of the beds was occupied, and some of the tools were in use. Spaz’s sandals were strapped over her face, effectively serving as both gag and blindfold. Two poles ran parallel to her body, each one hoisting an arm and a foot into the air. The poles themselves were tied high on the bedframe, allowing any tickler easy access to her armpits, ribs, knees and feet.
Maternal instincts were screaming at her to release the captive, but survival instincts lobbied even harder for caution. Celine stepped closer. A tear was dropping from behind the sandal that hid Spaz’s eyes. Her ribs had the red marks of “hard” tickling. Recent hard tickling.
A presence behind her. Celine twirled around, but there was nothing.
It wasn’t my imagination. “Show yourself!”
A sound like a deep hum came, followed by a faint shimmer in the wall. Like a reflection in murky water, Celine thought she saw a human shape. But it was gone just as quickly.
Then, a voice like a whisper, like a ghost. “Tonight, Sweetie.”
At once, the tension left the room. Celine’s survival instinct throttled back, letting her finally indulge her fear for her friend. She raced over and unlaced the sandals over Spaz’s face. Red-faced and bleary-eyed, the gobbling nonetheless smiled up at her as Celine undid the rest of her bindings.
Spaz swung her legs over the edge of the bed, but Celine crouched down before her, back turned. “No. I’m carrying you.”
“I’m sorry, Spaz.” It came out as a weepy mewl as Celine began carrying her up the stairs. “I’m sorry. I’m so stubborn and stupid. Something like this was going to happen, but like an idiot I ignored the warning. Let’s just get packed. We can-OW!”
Celine staggered, a sharp pain running through her foot. She quickly limped the last few steps and set Spaz down. With every step sending fresh waves of pain, Celine sat down hard on the floor just as quickly.
A quick glance confirmed her suspicions. There was a thick splinter embedded in her right foot, and those last few steps shoved it in deeper, at a broken angle to boot. Celine swallowed nervously. When it came to things she was squeamish about, operating on herself was pretty high on the list. She had no problem being injured and healed, but being forced to look at her own wounds had always made her feel nauseous. To dig out a splinter from her own foot, ever careful not to break off any bit…even the thought of it made her light-headed. Celine closed her eyes and flopped on her back, trying to get a grip. Her hands were shaking, and they’d shake while she tried to pull it out, too.
A hand grabbed her ankle. Celine gave a shout of surprise as it lifted her foot, gripping it firmly enough to resist her instinctive kick. She opened her eyes and there was Spaz, sitting cross legged as she set the foot on her lap. The goblin still looked drained from her own ordeal, but her eyes were sharp and focused on the injury.
“It hurts,” Celine whined a little, embarrassed. Embarrassed and a little surprised that a mammono was closely examining her most ticklish of ticklish spots and she wasn’t nervous at all.
Spaz gave a few gentle, experimental tugs on the wood, trying to find the path of least resistance. By tortuous millimeters, the splinter began coming out. Celine mewled a little, trying to keep her eyes dry and foot still. She was more ticklish than before, but evidently more sensitive to pain as well. She couldn’t help but twitch her foot, but that same hand kept it still, firm and gentle.
Now who’s the idiot little sister that needs helping?
Slowly, steadily, and always carefully, Spaz patiently worked the sliver until it was all the way out. As soon as she felt it slide out, Celine slid her legs around, got on her knees, and hugged Spaz. This time, it was her hugging with all her might, and Spaz hugging back gently, one hand rubbing Celine's head.
“Our…home.”
Celine blinked. Did Spaz just speak? Or was it her imagination?
Whatever.
“Absolutely,” Celine said. “It’s our home.”
She leaned back and looked Spaz in the face. “And we’re going to fight for it.”
Spaz smiled and nodded.
