chill tickles

Caine fiddled with his hands nervously as he paced back and forth across the stage. The soft tip-tap of his boots echoed gently into the quiet arena.

It was strange how naturally walking had come to him. He had relied on floatation for so long, he worried that standing on his own two feet would feel foreign and awkward. The truth was, it actually gave him a much more grounding soothing technique. He could focus his attention on the smooth, hard floor beneath his shoes rather than his roaring freight train of thought. It took selective attention for him to place one foot in front of the other in time to catch himself from falling forward; it was just another task, he enjoyed those. That attention to balance and coordination made a surprising difference in keeping his mind off of- well, anything that felt too overwhelming.

His friends had been helping him learn to verbalize his emotions and identify them with descriptors rather than putting them aside. It wasn't easy. In fact, Caine really tried not to complain too much, but it was incredibly frustrating to hold onto an unpleasant feeling for that long. It was so much easier when he locked away his troublesome thoughts into a little box and hid it away, metaphorically and literally. To admit to feeling sad or angry or hurt, in front of an audience no less, was unbelievably terrifying. But his friends were patient, and gave him space and time and lots of assurances. Zooble especially was sympathetic to his struggles. Apparently, they had gone through similar issues when talking about their own emotions. They had to learn through years of experience and figuring it out on their own to speak your mind in spite of the fear. Being vulnerable with others is hard, but taking the leap and trusting others will catch you yields its own rewards. Caine can attest to that.

Despite the progress he had been making in being honest with the others about how he felt, old habits die hard (that was a human phrase Kinger had taught him). The nervousness building up under his digital skin made it hard to stand still, and he found himself returning to his old self-soothing rituals, like playing with his hands or clenching his teeth, or even building new ones like pacing.

It was his idea to get into the habit of walking. The others insisted it wasn't necessary, but Caine disagreed. It didn't feel quite right anymore to be constantly looking down at them from above. If he was going to be given another chance, he needed to come to them on their level and live as they did. (The first few days of walking really put into perspective how he must have looked from down here on the floor. No wonder they felt intimidated by him all the time.) He still floated from time-to-time, if the distance was too great, but only at a short height.

Caine's head snapped up at the approaching clatter of steps.

He had told the others to meet him on the stage whenever they felt ready. There was something he wanted to offer them.

That prospect alone would have brought curious smiles to their faces, were it not for Caine's anxiety-ridden body language. While everyone had been coaching him on how to verbalize his thoughts and feelings, it was made pretty obvious anyway how he was feeling because of the animatedness of his expressions. They had no idea what Caine had in store for them.

Caine himself wasn't sure how this conversation was going to play out, but he hoped it would help further build a bridge between them.

Okay, no need to be nervous, he told himself. They've started to trust you again, and this will help with that even more.

One by one, the players ascended the steps and crossed the stage to where Caine stood, cautious but friendly smiles on their faces.

"Hey, Caine," Ragatha greeted. "You wanted to see us?"

"I did, yes." Caine straightened. He took a deep breath.

"I wanted to talk about my... outburst. Toying with you all in a fit of anger. I knew what I was doing was wrong, and I knew... I felt how afraid I made you. I can't undo the damage I did, the hurt I caused, but I've been thinking... the least I can do is give you a chance to return that pain."

The group stirred, glancing at each other in confusion.

Caine continued. "You all now have the power to conjure and bend reality into what you make of it. I think- I hope that it might be cathartic for you to... do unto me what I did unto you. I won't hold it against you. It's only fair."

He paused, eyes training on the floor nervously. "What do you think?"

What did they think? They hadn't expected good news when they came to the stage, but they weren't expecting... that. They could see the logic in the gesture, how one might think that a balancing out of the scales would help heal some of those wounds, but it didn't. They all knew it by looking at each other's faces. They were in agreement. More agony wouldn't rebuild that trust.

Zooble spoke up. "Caine, we appreciate what you're giving us, but we won't accept it."

"It was scary when you lashed out at us" Ragatha said.

"But you've done a lot to try and fix it" said Pomni.

"We want to be your friend," Gangle sniffled, "and we don't want to hurt you. It wouldn't feel right at all."

Kinger, adorned with his bucket-hat, which he had brought along in case this was a serious conversation he needed to be present for, spoke up as well. "No one else should get hurt. That's the power we want to have over this world."

Caine stuttered. "But- I did- I did terrible- egh- but it's not fair. Please, I- wouldn't it help at all? You have the opportunity to do anything- literally anything to me. I think you should use it. I want you to use it."

It was true. Caine still felt terrible about how he behaved. This seemed the most beneficial solution, and he really wanted them to have it.

Again, the gang looked at each other, sharing conversations with eye contact alone.

Ragatha smiled gently at her friends.

"Okay, Caine. We'll accept your offer."

Caine looked up hopefully.

The others' faces filled with shock.

"I don't think this is such a good-" Pomni started to object, but cut herself off as Ragatha looked to her and winked.

Pomni calmed herself.

Ragatha looked between them. "I think we all know of something to do to you that would help us all feel better. A torture that only the best" she emphasized, "of friends know."

Kinger watched Ragatha, searching for whatever hint she was trying to give. He found it. "I think I know too. Let's do it."

Pomni, Zooble, and Gangle blinked, clearly still lost. Until Kinger wiggled his fingers where they rested at his side.

Zooble's eyebrows shot up.

Gangle's eyes widened.

Pomni smirked.

Caine readied himself, standing tall with arms out wide, leaving himself completely open to their retribution. "I'm ready when you are" he said bravely.

Moving synchronously like they were one being, the group surrounded him.

Caine prepared himself for hits, punches, pulls, pushes, tears, and rips.

He did not prepare himself for the faint tickling sensation under his arm.

He choked on his own giggle, turning to where the touch had come from. But before he could say anything, another came from behind, this time at his side. He felt his innards tremble with a small laugh.

What were they doing? He didn't understand. Were they playing with him?

He stumbled backward, breaking the circle around him. "Wh-What are you doing? You're sup- you're supposed to hurt me! You're supposed to be angry! I was being serious, I really hurt you guys! I don't deserve to go on like it didn't..." His voice started to tremble, eyes growing wet.

Immediately it was clear to the others that now was not the time to keep going. They looked at each other worriedly at how quickly the tone had changed. This needed a different approach.

Kinger walked up to his creation. "Caine... no one is going to hurt you. Not now, not ever. We're not going to punish you for not understanding, so please don't punish yourself."

Caine felt someone take his hand.

"I forgive you" Pomni said. "I forgive you, okay? It's gonna take work, but we're gonna make this better. Together."

"We can't change what happened," Zooble added, "but we can try again. That's what you've been doing, right? Trying again, for us?"

Caine looked down in shame. "I..."

"Just be here..." Pomni blurted, eyes deepening imploringly, "... with us. Can we just do that, please? Just- be here."

Keep trying. Be here.

That, Caine could do. That he could do.

"Okay" he relented.

Zooble's voice caught Caine's attention. "Now about that revenge..."

Caine's pupils constricted. "But- you- I thought we-"

"Oh yeah, he could definitely use some payback right now" Ragatha agreed.

Caine's teeth turned up, like a smile only he could wear. "Come on guys, you don't have to do this." He pleaded, arms outstretched in front of him, with no real fear in his voice.

Pomni raised her hands and wiggled her fingers in front of her. "We're gonna make you so sorry you ever met us" she threatened dramatically.

Caine turned to make a break for it, but was caught by Zooble, who was standing ready and waiting right behind him. In their trap of a hold, their claw and hand started to pinch and squeeze his sides.

Laughter began to bubble up out of him, and it tickled him from the inside out.

The sound of it was downright shocking to the others. It was warm and bubbly, bright and melodic and real, as human as an AI could get. It was precious.

And now the game had really begun.

Gangle stepped forward and fluttered her ribbon-hands around his shoulders, where a neck would normally be. He shrugged his shoulders up as high as he could with a sweet squeal. Her ghostly whispers of touch sprouted goosebumps all down his back.

"Nohoho... nohoho tickling!" He giggled.

"This is what you get for being a pain in the ass, just laugh it up" Zooble said smugly.

"This wahahas supp-pposed to be pahainful!" He laughed. This was so ridiculous. What on earth was he doing here getting the wits tickled out of him by a bunch of humans? And why was this exactly what he needed?

Kinger chuckled fondly at the scene in front of him. How he wished they had reached this point sooner. So many years were wasted fearing him.

He wondered then how Caine being able to react to touch was even possible in the first place. He certainly hadn't programmed that in.

Oh well. It's not like it mattered to Caine at the moment, who was now snickering and shaking his head at the finger tickling under his chin.

"No?" Ragatha teased, cooing as though Caine were a labradoodle. "You don't want me to scratch right here? Is it too tickly for you? Can you not take it?"

This was so embarrassing, and yes he could absolutely take it! He wasn't some delicate little child!

Caine glared up at Ragatha. "Of course I can!"

"Great! I'll just keep going then!"

Aw nuts. Probably should have kept his mouth shut.

Ragatha laughed at the ringmaster's plight, watching him twist and titter himself silly. She then noticed that it was getting difficult for Zooble and Gangle to tickle him the more he balled up.

"Here, get his arms" she suggested. She loved the way Zooble's eyes narrowed with mischief just as Caine's widened with terror.

As Zooble struggled to wrestle Caine's wrists into their claw-hands, Ragatha reached out to grab one of Caine's kicking feet. The moment she got a good grip on his ankle, he let out what could only be described as a shrill, huffy, screech, as though he were startled mid-giggle. The last coherent thought he had was how odd he found it that just clutching his ankle tickled so much. She hadn't even touched the bottom of his boot (which he knew vaguely was a very very bad spot on most humans). Whatever struggling he had been doing before was now exponentially more frantic as his laughter skyrocketed. The powerful volume reminded them all of his usual robotic laugh, but that was where the similarities ended. It was high and breathy, a desperate, whining sound. It began to spasm with chaotic rhythm, like his digital diaphragm was shuddering. It consumed him. His chest expanded with air like a balloon. His belly ached. His head filled with cotton, taking up too much space for there to be any thoughts left in there. His arms had become floppy, giving Zooble the chance to grab them and hold them over his head, but he didn't care. He didn't even notice.

And he couldn't stop laughing. Not even if his life depended on it. And there was something else.

Something pervasive and spreading and dizzying.

Something warm and fuzzy and tickly all in its own way.

He gasped it in with every inhale he took and puffed it back out with every laugh expelled from him.

Relief.

Pure, unencumbered, relief.

They loved him. They must have. Why else would they be blessing him with such a moment? It lit up their torturous fingertips tickling up and down his body, and shined through their great big smiles, and twinkled in their eyes gazing down at him like someone who belonged.

They loved him, and they forgave him.

Had he earned that? He doubted he'd ever know for sure.

But they all seemed sure enough, and that was what made this all so nice.

If he hadn't been laughing, he'd have been crying tears of happiness. He was grateful, then, that they were tickling him, because the laughter was a much less mortifying reaction to have then the crying.

Through all of this, his friends were too busy grinning to let their jaws drop to the floor. He was laughing. Really laughing. They doubted he'd ever laughed this hard before. Maybe it was time they changed that.

They didn't want to suffocate the poor guy, though, so Ragatha released her grip on his ankle.

It was as if she did nothing at all. Caine was still laughing like a crazy person. Gangle and Zooble paused their tickling as well to give him some room to catch his breath.

A couple minutes later and he seemed to have steadied himself.

Pomni made a move to suggest they call it a day when Caine raised his head blearily.

"Are... are we done?" He panted, sounding more than a little disappointed. He wouldn't ask them to keep going if they didn't want to, but he found himself waiting with bated breath for a very specific answer.

Ragatha knew that look, and she knew Kinger did too from their time in the Losers Corner.

It seemed Pomni had picked up on it too, because before anyone could reply, she parked two fingers at the top of Caine's ribs. The delicate touch made him gasp involuntarily.

"Not quite" Pomni smiled with faux darkness. She carefully raked her fingertips down the length of his sides and then started over at the top again.

The feeling wasn't quite as intense as it had been before, to Caine's relief, but it still kept those shamefully high squeaks flying out of his mouth.

"So, Caine" Pomni started. "Which one of us in the Circus is your favorite, huh? It's gotta be me, right?"

Caine may have still been in a state of delirium, but he had enough good sense to know he should not answer that.

But Pomni hadn't stopped dancing her fingers over his sides, and the constancy of it kept him dancing around on the floor.

"Now hold on just a minute" Ragatha said indignantly, having caught on to Pomni's new little game of antagonizing Caine. "I think he likes me the best, isn't that right, Caine?" As she said this, her plush hands gently swatted Pomni's away, not to end the tickly madness, but to contribute her own methods, as she took a finger on each hand and sharply jabbed into the center of Caine's belly.

The laughter took on a more manic quality, as each merciless poke sent another ticklish shock to his body, startling yelps out of him.

"You're all wrong" Zooble cut in from above, still holding Caine's wrists in one claw. "Me and him are super close, I'm obviously the favorite."

Ragatha paused her poking to give Zooble the floor.

Caine readied himself for what was surely another new kind of ticklish torture, but after a few long moments, he felt nothing. He dared to look up at Zooble and felt his stomach drop.

The others were watching Zooble closely as well, with some eyebrows jumping up in surprise.

How could they not? Zooble had just changed the game.

With dawning horror, Caine watched as Zooble conjured from nothingness a long, white feather. It looked unimaginably soft; it even had tiny fibers along the bigger fibers.

Zooble took this beautiful feather, and proceeded to twirl it quick and graceful into the exposed center of Caine's armpit.

The reaction was instantaneous, and loud. Caine's laughter was nothing but short, shrieking cackles for a couple seconds, until it descended into robotic static. This was too much. He was having fun, but this was just too much. Even for what was supposed to be torturous justice.

"STAHAAP!" He shouted, almost involuntarily. He didn't really expect them to stop. What kind of punishment would this be if he wasn't made to suffer? He had done far worse to them; this is what he deserved.

The feather stopped immediately, mere moments after getting his plea out, and his hands were released. Caine took this reprieve gratefully, rubbing his underarms to override the lingering tickles.

Appreciative though he was, he was also very confused. What had they stopped for? He thought the point of this was for them to do this to him.

He looked around him to find everyone had backed up slightly, probably to give him air, watching him with worry painted all over their faces.

"You okay?" Pomni checked gently.

He was surprisingly fine actually. He wasn't even out of breath anymore. It had tickled really badly for a few moments, but it ended before it got really bad. But why? Why had they listened to him?

Zooble couldn't seem to look at him, eyes darting to various parts of the floor. "I knew I shouldn't have conjured the feather" they said guiltily. "I'm sorry Caine for pushing too hard."

Caine didn't like how sadness looked on Zooble and he wanted more than anything right now to ease their worries. "The feather was kind of nice actually, it was just that one spot- Wait hang on, I don't understand. Why'd you stop when I asked you to? I thought this was supposed to be torture." (Everyone but Caine was stunned a little at such a straightforward admission of enjoyment, even if they could already kind of tell).

Ragatha looked at him like he had grown a second head. "Not... actual torture. It's just for fun, and it's never fun if you're uncomfortable."

Zooble leaned forward to get Caine's attention. "Your body needs to be respected no matter what; the control is in your hands, always."

Kinger agreed. "And that goes for all of us. Even you."

He wasn't completely clueless and unaware, he understood bodily consent and how important it was. He just didn't think such protections applied to him as well. It made him feel... safe.

"Thank you" he said.

"Bare minimum" Zooble replied.

"So," Ragatha said. "That enough penance for you?"

Caine brought a finger to his teeth, thinking it over. He hadn't expected to suddenly feel shy of all things.

"I... wouldn't mind if- if you wanted to keep going. You know- if you wanted to, I wouldn't mind at all." He stammered.

Caine might as well have written "please keep tickling me" on his forehead. He had no semblance of a poker face whatsoever, which Pomni and the others found adorable.

Pomni, feeling evil, asked, "But do yooouuu want to?"

Slapping his hands over his eyes, Caine grumbled, "Ugghhh yes."

Kinger chuckled, endeared by this pure being who had only ever wanted to love and be loved. "Wonderful, because... we never actually figured out which of us is your favorite."

Ragatha knew firsthand that when Kinger's tickle monster persona came out, you were in for a good laugh. She snickered in anticipation to watch this go down.

Pomni pointed a finger at Caine. "And no armpits?"

He nodded. "No armpits."

"Got it."

Caine practically lit up with giddy joy and readied himself to be once again enveloped by his friends' affection.

Before the fun restarted, he thought to himself only one thing.

How glad he was to have come home.

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