Beach Day Backfire (Sequel to Caine's Punishment)
Ler!Pomni Ler!Ragatha Ler!Gangle Ler!Kinger Ler!Zooble
Word Count: ~3000
Part 1: Caine's Punishment
Warnings: Mild glitching, Caine's broken code causing system instability, and this is not canon!
This is a SFW tickle fic, if you don't like that then don't read :)
I hope you enjoy my fic :D
Sequel to Caine's Punishment. Caine tries to get his revenge with a beach-day tickle trap, but his broken powers have other ideas, and the crew discovers that glitchy ringmasters are just as ticklish the second time around :D
(The beach was almost perfect.)
That was the first thing Pomni noticed when she stepped through the portal Caine had opened at the tent's exit. The sand was soft and fluffy, the kind that didn't stick to everything. The water stretched out in shades of blue that looked like they'd been picked from a color card. Lounge chairs sat in a neat row, each one with a folded towel and a tiny umbrella. A cooler full of drinks floated gently beside a stack of beach balls that were, Caine assured everyone, completely non-alive.
"See?" Caine floated ahead of the group, gesturing broadly at the shoreline. "Non-lethal water. Comfortable chairs. Snacks that do not fight back. I promised you a beach day, and I deliver."
"It's… actually nice," Ragatha said. She bent down to touch the sand, letting it run through her fabric fingers. "Really nice, Caine."
"Of course it is. I am a professional."
Zooble was already settling into one of the lounge chairs, stretching their limbs out with a contented sigh. "No complaints."
Gangle's ribbon trailed through the shallow water at the shoreline. "It's warm! The water is warm!"
Kinger shuffled toward the cooler, examining it with scientific interest. "Fascinating. The condensation patterns suggest an internal temperature of approximately…"
"Kinger, just grab a drink," Pomni said.
Pomni walked down to where the water met the sand. She let a wave wash over her shoes. It was warm. Not too warm. Perfect, actually. She turned to look back at Caine, who was floating near the lounge chairs, watching them all with an expression she couldn't quite read.
"This is good," she said. "This is really good."
Caine's eyes crinkled. "I'm glad you think so."
Something about the way he said it made Pomni pause. It was a little too casual. A little too pleased. Like he was waiting for something.
"I don't know what you mean." His voice was perfectly innocent. Too innocent. "I simply created a relaxing beach environment for my dear friends. Nothing more."
Pomni narrowed her eyes. "Uh huh."
"I'm wounded by your suspicion. Truly."
Gangle had waded deeper into the water, her ribbon floating around her like a red halo. "Caine, are there fish in here?"
"Only the friendly kind."
"You said that last time."
"And were there any problems?"
"They tried to bite Kinger."
Pomni was still watching Caine. He was floating a little higher than usual, his gloved hands clasped behind his back. Every few seconds his gaze would flick toward something further down the beach, a section of sand where the lounge chairs were clustered, and then flick away again.
She followed his glance. The chairs looked normal. Towels. Umbrellas. And a volleyball net that hadn't been there a minute ago.
"Caine, what's the volleyball net for?"
"That volleyball net," she pointed.
Caine turned. He stared at the net for a beat too long. "Ah. That. Decoration. Purely aesthetic."
Ragatha had walked over to the net and was examining it. "It looks sturdy. Do we even have a volleyball?"
"I can generate one," Caine said, a little too quickly. "If you'd like. Or we could simply relax. No need for games. Games are entirely optional now. You said so yourselves."
Pomni exchanged a look with Ragatha.
"Something's up," Pomni muttered.
"Oh, definitely," Ragatha whispered back. "He's been planning something since yesterday."
"You think this is the revenge thing?"
"He did say he'd find a way."
Zooble, still sprawled on their lounge chair, cracked one eye open. "Are we doing this or what?"
"Doing what?" Caine asked.
"Investigating whatever trap you set up."
Caine's jaw tightened. "I have set up no traps. I am a changed ringmaster. I would never dream of doing such a thing."
"I resent these accusations."
Kinger, who had wandered over to the volleyball net with a drink in each hand, reached out and poked one of the poles. It wobbled slightly. A small puff of sand kicked up at its base, and something mechanical clicked beneath the surface.
Caine's eyes went wide. "That was nothing."
"Kinger," Pomni said slowly, "poke it again."
"Don't poke it again," Caine said.
The net shimmered. For a split second, it flickered like a bad screen, the ropes glitching into jagged shapes. Then the sand around the chairs erupted. Feather-light tendrils of golden sand popped up from the ground, twisting into shapes that looked almost like hands. They weren't aggressive. They were playful. Wiggling. Reaching.
"What," Pomni said, "is that."
"It appears to be…" Kinger adjusted his robe, squinting at the tendrils. "Some kind of automated tickling mechanism. Programmed to target… well, it appears to be targeting me."
One of the sandy tendrils had wrapped gently around Kinger's ankle. Another was hovering near his ribs. He let out a surprised laugh, stumbling backward and spilling both drinks.
"Oh my," Kinger said, giggling despite himself. "That's-that's rather effective."
Caine was floating backward, his hands up in a gesture of innocence. "I may have, hypothetically, attempted to create a small, harmless, entirely playful surprise for you all. As a joke. A prank. A lighthearted bit of fun."
"A lighthearted bit of fun."
"You tried to tickle-trap us."
"The word trap feels so aggressive."
Zooble looked at the wriggling sand.
Zooble had sat up on their lounge chair. A sandy tendril was creeping up the back of it, wiggling toward their neck. "Caine."
"If this thing touches me, I'm gonna be mad."
The tendril touched Zooble's neck. They flinched, a sharp laugh escaping before they could stop it. "OHOHKAY, that's weheherd-"
"The sand is warm," Kinger observed, still giggling as the tendrils explored his sides. "Remarkable texture. Very soft. Almost like a oh-oh no that's a bad spot-"
Gangle had scrambled out of the water, her ribbon held high. "How do we turn it off?!"
"I don't know!" Caine's voice had gone high and panicked. "I know I programmed a shutdown phrase, I just can't remember what it was!"
"Half my code's missing, Gangle! My memory is Swiss cheese!"
Ragatha was dodging a pair of tendrils that had emerged from the sand near her feet. "Caine, you have to focus! You made these things, you can unmake them!"
Caine raised his hands. The air around him flickered, pixels scattering like dust. The tendrils paused for a moment, wobbling uncertainly. Then, with a collective shimmer, they all changed direction.
"They're going for you," Pomni said. She had stopped dodging. The tendrils near her had frozen mid-air, their sandy fingers twitching. "They switched targets."
"That's not possible. I coded them to target the crew. I was very specific."
"Your code is broken, Caine."
"It is NOT broken, it is simply… experiencing some instability… oh… oh no…"
The first tendril reached him. It was thin and golden, shaped like a child's drawing of a finger. It poked him gently in the side.
"Oh no," he said again, his voice smaller this time.
The second tendril wrapped around his ankle. The third found the back of his knee.
The fourth, fifth, and sixth all arrived at once, wiggling against his ribs, his tummy, and his shoulders.
Caine burst into helpless giggles.
"Nohohoho-wahahait-this isn't rihihight-"
"Don't," Caine pleaded through his laughter.
"It's kind of funny," Ragatha said. She had stopped running. The tendrils near her had collapsed back into normal sand. Everyone's had. The only ones still active were the ones swarming Caine.
"You tried to trap us," Zooble said, settling back onto their lounge chair. "You literally built a tickle trap."
"Ihi was being plahahayful-"
"Yehehes I can see thahat-"
Gangle crept closer, her ribbon trailing behind her. "Caine, why are there so many?"
"I mahay have been a bit overzehehealous-"
"A bit?" Pomni walked over to where Caine was floating, surrounded by wiggling golden tendrils. His face was already turning pink. His bow tie was starting to slip. "How many did you program?"
Caine's answer was swallowed by another burst of giggles as a tendril found the spot under his chin.
"Ihi wanted to be thohohorough-"
Ragatha walked up beside Pomni, her arms crossed but her eye sparkling. "So let me get this straight. You, our ringmaster, who we just forgave for everything, decided to use the beach day to get revenge."
"And you built twenty tickle tendrils."
"THAT SEEMED LIKE THE RIGHT NUMBER AT THE TIHIHIME-"
"And you lost control of them."
"I'M AWARE OF THE SITUATION, RAGATHA-"
A tendril brushed against Caine's lower back and he screamed. His whole body arched, his jaw opening in a silent laugh, and for a moment he just hung there, suspended by the tendrils while his voice caught up to the sensation.
"GAHAHA-NOT THEHEHERE-NOT THERE-"
"His worst spot," Pomni said, and she couldn't keep the grin off her face. "He gave the tendrils access to his worst spot."
Kinger had recovered from his own tickle attack and was watching with academic delight. "Fascinating. The programming appears to have completely inverted its targeting parameters. Instead of the crew, it's now solely focused on its creator."
"THANK YOU FOR THE ANALYSIS, KINGER-"
Pomni stepped closer to the floating, giggling ringmaster. The tendrils were still busy, but their movements had become gentler, almost playful. One was tracing circles on his tummy. Another was wiggling against the arch of his foot. A third had found the spot behind his knee and was doing something that made Caine's voice go all squeaky.
"Want us to help?" Pomni asked.
"Because we could just stand here and watch."
"I mean, you did try to trap us."
"Ihi know- I know, I'm sohohorry-"
Ragatha tilted her head. "Are you really sorry, or are you just saying that because you're being tickled by your own trap?"
"BOTH-HOHOHOW DO I TURN IT OHOHOFF-"
"You said you programmed a shutdown phrase."
A tendril scribbled across his tummy.
"NOHOHOHOHO-NOHOHOT WHEN THEY'RE DOHOHOING THAHAT-"
Pomni crossed her arms. "Come on, Caine! What was it?"
Caine squeezed his eyes shut, trying to think through the laughter.
Another tendril fluttered across his ribs.
His eyes suddenly flew open.
He took one desperate, giggly breath.
The tendrils stopped. For a long moment, they hovered perfectly still, their sandy fingers frozen mid-wiggle. Then, with a soft shushing sound, they collapsed back into the beach, leaving behind nothing but disturbed sand and a very rumpled ringmaster.
Caine slumped in the air, chest heaving. His bow tie was dangling by a thread. His top hat had fallen somewhere in the sand. His face was bright red, and little aftershock giggles kept bubbling up no matter how hard he tried to press his jaw shut.
"Wohohow," he managed. "That was…"
"Hilarious," Zooble supplied.
Caine groaned and buried his face in his hands. "I can't believe that happened."
Pomni walked over and picked up his hat from the sand. She dusted it off and held it out to him. "You know what's really funny?"
"You didn't need to do this."
Caine peeked through his fingers. "What?"
"The trap. The revenge thing. You could have just asked."
"For us to tickle you again."
Caine's face, which had been starting to return to its normal color, went crimson all over again. "I- that's not- I wasn't-"
"You literally built an entire tickle trap."
"And it ended up on YOU."
Ragatha had picked up Caine's bow tie from the sand and was smoothing it out. "You know, if you wanted us to do it again, you could have just said so."
"Caine." Pomni stepped in front of him, still holding his hat. "It's okay. We had fun last time. You had fun last time. You literally asked if we could do it again."
"That was a hypothetical question!"
"Your face is so red right now."
"Your everything is red," Gangle said, and her comedy mask was a wide, delighted grin. "Just like last time."
Caine looked around at all of them. Pomni was trying very hard not to smile. Ragatha was still fixing his crooked bow tie. Gangle's ribbon swayed happily behind her. Kinger had somehow already started scribbling notes in the sand. Even Zooble looked like they were enjoying themselves. Somehow, nobody looked upset.
"I hate all of you," he said.
"No you don't," Pomni said.
"I don't," he admitted. "But I'm very frustrated right now."
"You tried to trap us and it backfired."
"You coded twenty tickle tendrils and they all turned on you."
"And then you forgot the safeword."
"I remembered it eventually!"
Zooble stood up from their chair, stretching. "Alright. Enough gloating. He's already embarrassed."
"Don't thank me yet." Zooble walked over and gave Caine a light poke in the side.
Caine flinched with a tiny yelp.
"That's for trying to trap us."
Caine rubbed his side, but he was smiling. A small, real smile, not the big theatrical one. "Even."
Ragatha finished fixing his bow tie and stepped back. "There. Now you look like a ringmaster again."
"I feel like a dishrag who got attacked by his own creation."
"It's been a specific day."
Gangle's ribbon curled around Caine's arm. "For what it's worth, the beach really is pretty."
Caine looked around. The water was still warm and blue. The sand was still soft. The lounge chairs were still perfectly arranged, and the cooler was still full of drinks. The only evidence of the chaos was some disturbed sand and a slightly bent volleyball net pole.
"I did get that part right," he said quietly.
"You got most of it right," Pomni said. She placed his hat back on his head, adjusting it until it sat straight. "The trap was just… extra."
"But the thought was kind of sweet? In a weird, Caine way?"
Caine blinked at her. "Sweet?"
"You wanted to play with us. You just don't know how to ask for things without turning them into a production."
"I… I suppose that's accurate."
Pomni looped her arm through his. "So next time, just ask."
Caine was quiet for a moment. Then, very softly, he said, "Would you… would you want to do the tickle thing again? Properly? Without the traps?"
Pomni looked at Ragatha. Ragatha looked at Gangle. Gangle looked at Zooble. Zooble shrugged.
"We've got all day," Zooble said.
"The beach isn't going anywhere," Ragatha added.
"And the sand is really soft," Gangle said. "For, you know. Falling over."
Caine's face went pink again. "You're all going to gang up on me, aren't you."
"Oh, absolutely," Kinger said, looking up from his sand notes. "I've developed several new hypotheses since last time."
"Just theories. Hypotheses, really."
Caine looked at Pomni, his eyes wide with something between terror and anticipation. "This is my punishment, isn't it. For the trap."
"Even though the trap already backfired."
Pomni grinned. "You literally asked for it this time."
Caine opened his mouth to argue, then closed it. His eyes crinkled at the corners. "I did, didn't I."
"Then I suppose… I suppose I should accept my fate with dignity."
"Dignity," Zooble repeated. "You. With dignity. After what we just watched."
"…I don't think that's how dignity works."
Zooble nodded toward his head.
Caine instinctively reached up to adjust his top hat, remembered it was already back on, and sighed.
"About five minutes ago," Ragatha reminded him.
Pomni tugged on his arm, pulling him toward the lounge chairs where the others were already gathering. "Come on, ringmaster. Let's see how dignified you are after Kinger finds those new spots."
Caine let himself be pulled, his floating form bobbing gently in the beach air. "I'm going to regret this, aren't I."
"And you're all going to coo at me."
"And someone is going to mention my blush."
"Your what?" Gangle asked sweetly. "Your bluuuush?"
Caine groaned. "It's already started."
The crew settled onto the sand near the lounge chairs. Kinger had somehow found a small notebook and was already sketching what looked suspiciously like Caine's torso. Several tiny notes were scribbled around it.
'Requires further testing.'
Ragatha was already cracking her knuckles. Gangle's ribbon was hovering with barely contained excitement. Zooble had claimed the best viewing spot on their chair.
Pomni sat down beside Caine, her shoulder pressing against his. "Hey."
"Thanks for the beach day."
Caine's smile was tired and real and a little bit scared. "You're welcome."
"And thanks for the trap. Even though it was stupid."
"It wasn't stupid. It was poorly executed."
Caine squeaked involuntarily.
"And so it begins," Zooble said from their chair.
Kinger cleared his throat and opened his notebook. "Now then. If I could direct everyone's attention to figure three-A, the spot directly below the left shoulder blade…"
"That's a new spot?!" Caine's voice was already climbing.
"I said I had hypotheses."
"Kinger, yes," Ragatha said, and her hands were already settling on Caine's shoulders.
The beach echoed with the sound of Caine's indignant, giggly protests. The water sparkled. The sand stayed soft. And somewhere in the cooler, the drinks stayed perfectly cold.
It was, despite everything, a very good beach day.
Thanks for reading Part 2! c:
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