Charlie stepped in out of the heavy rain and whipped off his coat, sliding in onto the rack. In the same smooth movement, he popped up his feet and shook off his shoes. In this place, nobody wore socks more than once, and that was when they first came. Barefoot, he padded through the doorway out of the anteroom, the transition from cracked cement to thick carpet causing him to giggle almost girlishly.
He stood in the middle of a rounded, three story room, with more doorways and other portals opening off to other chambers. He knew it was three stories or so tall because of the two sets of wrap-around balconies that marked each successive floor. There was a large fireplace in the far corner, flanked by a fire poker and a small basket of outrageously long feathers. Several comfortable, specifically altered couches and other pieces of furniture were scattered around the floor, which had been thickly carpeted for the comfort of bare feet- and had a tendency to form unusual little knots that tickled more than slightly when stepped on.
Sofas, coffee tables, and futons weren't the only furnishings- on a raised, partially curtained dais projecting from the corner opposite the fireplace, an x-frame leaned against the wall. There were also several sets of richly padded stocks with matching chairs scattered about. Most of these were without specific toe restraints-in the common room, lighter tickling-unless of course, it was gang tickling that involved everyone present- was typically preferred, to keep from being overly disruptive.
The walls were painted a light orange tone- not glamorously bright, but not something that could be easily dismissed as 'subdued'- and covered with posters depicting everything from medical diagrams of the nerve concentrations on the human body, to artistic shots of people in various positions and circumstances being relentlessly tickled.
Charlie looked happily up and around the familiar surroundings of TGRHQ, something that was fast becoming a habit of his. There were several people relaxing in various ways across the room. Three people were sitting on the floor of to the left, legs tied together, forming a triangle. Each held a large feather or similar implement, and was tickling the foot of the person to the right. A reclining chair with several sets of leather straps lay extended nearby-presumably the ‘loser’ would wind up in there afterwards.
Off to his right, a red-headed girl had had both hands tied together, with the rope having first been passed through the barred railing on the first balcony, pulling her arms up and exposing more than a little belly. She had been gagged to prevent her from disturbing anyone, as one of her friends stood behind her, playfully goosing up and down her sides, giggling cutely as her friend bounced and squirmed helplessly on the spot.
The female Ler turned and grinned at Charlie as he entered, flipping a dark wave of hair out of her face. He grinned back, and padded across the room, aiming for the corner by the dais. Behind him, he could hear the faint creaking of the rope as it was tugged mercilessly, though not as badly as the girl, June, tickled her friend, whom Charlie knew was named Sam, if only from the giggled verbal teases June was giving her to accompany the physical ones.
Charlie grinned in contentment at the sounds, approaching his target. Two people- a dark-haired boy and a girl with a blonde ponytail-sat talking animatedly on a couch just in front of him. Slowing to what could only be called a stalk, he crept up behind them, before shooting his arms out and down.
The girl jumped up and squeaked as his fingers found their marks on her plain white shirt- one going for her underarm, the other her soft belly.
"Chahaharlie! Cut thahahat out!" She chortled, swinging forward, trying to evade his furiously wiggling fingers.
"If you insist. You really have to be more alert, Rachel." He slid easily over the back of the couch, landing beside Rachel and turned to the other boy in one manoeuvre. "Right, Mike?"
Mike grinned, poking Rachel's sides a few times as she tried to get her laughing under control. She had an incredibly ticklish upper-body.
"Right. So, is that training you keep giving her not coming along then?"
Rachel swatted away Mike's hand. "Hehehe! It's coming fine! I just can't hear people very well when I'm deep in conversation and they're sneaking bare foot across carpet. And besides, why join the Tigers if you won't let people come close to you for fear they'll tickle you?"
"Why indeed?" Asked Charlie, making a go for her other side, only to have his own arm similarily repulsed. “It might not make that much difference, though. You're simply just too ticklish, Rachel!"
"Oh?" Pretending that they hadn't said and done the exact same things a dozen times before, she cocked an eyebrow. "Is that so? I bet I could out-tickle you both any time, anywhere."
Mike leaned luxuriantly back on his cushion. "Why Rachel, it almost sounds as if your challenging us to a Tickle Fight. You neverdo that."
"You bet I am! That's if you both aren't scared you'll lose!" Rachel stood up abruptly, hands on hips, looking down on both of them.
Charlie glanced over at his friend. "What do you think, Mike? Should we take her up on it?"
"Sure. It's been to long since I’ve had a good tickle-whether giving or taking."
'Great. Let's head to the Arena." Called Rachel, already heading for the appropriate doorway.
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