Lake Superior
TMF Regular
- Joined
- Jan 3, 2019
- Messages
- 175
- Points
- 18
Normally he loved performing for an audience, a crowd seeking to feed his actions. In this particular show however, Owain couldn’t see himself enjoying it very much. As the blond looked around he saw more than a few faces that he recognized, and the expressions on their faces revealed that they remembered him as well. He'd been captured a few days ago and after being left to stew in a cell, Loki had come to fetch him finally without a word. He'd done all of his usual posturing and such: "Vile villain! By each of the Sacred Stones will I strike you down! You cannot defeat me! I fight for my friends!" She'd simply shook her head and cast a spell to levitate him right out of his boots. He'd kicked and fought but the woman merely giggled and walked ahead while he floated behind her obediently. She'd dumped him into the arena and left to find herself a seat to watch the show, knowing that Owain's opponent was quite the showman. After all, she'd trained him herself. When the opposing gate opened and his shrouded opponent trod into the ring, Owain couldn't contain himself.
"What foul Awakening is this?! Could this be a Shadow Dragon taking a more pleasing form in my presence? Well, know this fiend: I will strike you down with my–"
The dark mage before him wore a heavy cloak but threw it off suddenly, revealing his short blonde hair and revealing outfit. What cut off Owain's words though was the man's face. It was boyishly handsome in an all too familiar way…because it was in fact his own!
"Your Blade of Light is no match for the impenetrable shades cast by ME, the unconquerable Odin Dark! Come, brave hero! Face a villain worthy of that cursed sword hand and quake!"
Owain was not at all used to being on the receiving end of his unique syntax, and seeing it copied caused him to take a step back as he was left stunned and unsure of how to continue. Unfortunately for the myrmidon, that was just the opening that Odin Dark needed. His hands glowed with his dark magic and the arena was shrouded in a dark shimmer.
"Now is the end of your Path of Radiance, oh Chosen Hero! Now begins the game! We are both toys of Those Who Slither in the Dark–"
"By all 12 Deadlords, that's a terrible name!"
"Silence! Now, look!"
A glowing crest had appeared on the wall of the arena that depicted the image of a foot over a background of wood with padding behind it, seemingly implying it had been stocked. Over its sole were three feathers of black, brown, and white all crossing each other.
"Now, Demon Swordsman, you may be pondering the Mystery of this Emblem! It’s to let you know that our duel has commenced! Lady Loki gave me the spell just for an occasion like this! From this point on, the crowd will react to our performance and in absence of their approval, a different kind of show will be put on to get everyone smiling! So come now, show me an Awakening that would make you worthy of that Cursed Sword!"
This doppelganger’s showmanship nearly left Owain speechless, but he regained his bearings and rebuffed it with a proclamation of his own. "Er…well, I may not understand your rules, but my sword hand rises to any challenge whether it be comprehended or not! You'll find that my facade is likened to the twin bangles of Sun and Moonlight! Indeed, my mother refers to me as..."
And with this Owain spun around before stomping his bare, size 10 foot to the ground, capping the flourish with one hand over his face for his signature pose.
"A treasure!"
---
After an awkward pause fell over the arena, Odin looked up to the crowd and beckoned them for judgment. Prince Leo sat in his chair and tried to ignore whatever Niles and Inigo were getting up to behind him. Sitting on his knees and leaning forwards, he shook his head and gave a thumbs down. He couldn't condone the way the boy had just embarrassed himself in front of everyone.
Odin smiled at the verdict and snapped his fingers, watching as the shadows surged and pounced. Owain took a step back but wasn't fast enough. The very foot that had moved back sank into the darkness and then rose with a sturdy, wooden stockade trapping it. He looked absolutely comical in his attempts to pull his foot free, but his struggling came to a pause when hands emerged from the shadows as well. They wiggled their fingers at him as they descended, and in taking Owain's toes proceeded to wiggle them about as well. The lad hopped on one foot, waving his arms about as he laughed and tried to yank from their grasp.
"Hahaha, Holy Wars thahahaht tichihickles! Quihihit it! Dahaha!"
The stockade and hands dissolved after a few moments, leaving Owain to convulse on the ground even more giggly than usual. In the stands, the various tickle pets and owners went wild with cheering; especially Gerome, whose big feet had been propped up on the lip of the balcony. The boy blushed furiously at the message of support towards Odin Dark that Niles and Inigo had been so kind as to scribble on his soles for him. Odin pointed to the signs from his fans and took a deep bow with an exaggerated flourish, making the crowd cheer even more for the villain. Owain got to his feet slowly and saw an opening in the other man's theatrics.
"Ah-ha! You've seen fit to underestimate me, and now my skills shall dawn upon you! RADIANTLY!"
Before the Dark Mage could even straighten up, Owain had tackled him right off his feet. The two grappled for a bit until Owain began tracing a finger along the cheek of the man's rump, teasing the skin beneath the thin fabric and enjoying the sputtering laughter it was getting out of him.
"Pffffpptt guahauah, fiiieeheeheend, dehehehevil! Geheheht awahahay from my buhuhuhttt!"
"Ah-ha! My sword hand twitches! What's this I detect on these cheeks? Could it be the mark of a devilish blood pact, binding you to do these evils?! Or might it be that little, lollipop-shaped birthmark that Inigo would always tease me about...EITHER WAY! Coochie-coochie-coo, fiend!"
---
Owain gestured to the crowd and they erupted in applause for him this time, begging him to give the mage’s posterior a more thorough examination. Their clapping reverberated throughout the arena and caused the conjured darkness to surge around poor, victimized Odin. Thick ropes of shadow bound his hands and ankles together to keep him in his awkward position, and an umbral hand pulled his trousers down to expose his twin cheeks to the element.
"Well now, the tables have certainly turned haven't they, vile sorcerer? As I stand here loving over these moonlight-bathed cheeks, all I can think is...might they be ticklish here?!"
Owain dug his fingers right into the area where the mage's rear met his thigh and scratched hard, getting rewarded with a goofy snort.
"No! *hnnrkk* nahaht my Bramimounds *fnnnkk* ahahah! It tihihickles!"
"Does it also tickle…here?”
Owain danced his fingers upward before he switched to only using one. He drilled it right into the meatiest part of the man's cheek before pulling it out and doing the same to the other buttock.
"BAHAhaha, Feathery Fjalar thahahat tickles! Gahaha mohohommy!"
"Oho! So you try to summon succubi to protect you! And you dare name them after my own dear, sweet mother?! Why I'll have you know that if I am indeed the cursed swordsman, then that would make her more of a sword saint! I'll give you a real tickling for that you Manster..err monster! How about here!"
Owain flicked a finger back and forth along the thin stretch of pink between the mage's cheeks and felt the man quiver. He grinned at the chance to exploit it…but suddenly the shadows surged around the spiky-haired pair as the scene changed. When the darkness cleared, both men were trapped in sets of ankle stocks facing each other, their soles pressed almost against each other with barely enough room between them to fit a finger.
---
A certain lady in the crowd didn't quite appreciate being referred to as "sword saint" and had taken Loki's foot into her lap to tickle away at the strategist's chunky toes until she'd acquiesced and let her pick the next game for her boys. Lissa had whispered it to Loki before smiling and grabbing Morgan back into her lap. She'd been having a fun time using the lad as her tickly little lap warmer, and after giving her nephew a bit of a breather she was ready to give his cute little hipbones another squeezy workout.
"Lahahahdy Laahahegjarn hahahalp! Hahahah it tihihickles!"
The Princess in question was sitting back in her chair, still gasping for air herself as she'd been the first one to taste Lissa's wrath before Morgan. Her big, brown sole read "Lissa's favorite!" written across in fresh ink from the pen the cleric had used, and above it were a few other attempts that Lissa had crossed out after misspelling some words. Morgan hadn't even noticed the way Lissa had worked Laegjarn's foot into her lap, and ever up for a challenge she'd been happy to test her sole against Lissa's fingers. In the end the pen had destroyed her, and now Morgan was on his own as it came for him and his defenseless ribs.
Back in the ring, the two men eyed each other nervously. Eventually it was Odin Dark who made the first move, leaning in and dancing his toes over Owain's helpless soles. He paid particular attention to scooping beneath the ball of the man's foot as he knew it would make him go wild.
"Go my ten elites! Your Crusade of Light begins under the auspicious orders of none other than I: ODIN DARK! The feet of this doppelganger are nothing more than mere Thrones to be seized, and here he is with no Boots to defend them!"
Owain's feet were so caught in such a state of surprise that they couldn't do a thing. Instead, the swordsman could only thrash about and strain at his bonds as he tried to pull his soles away from the aggressive toe attack. He accomplished neither of these unfortunately and only managed to flex his feet back in a way that granted Odin access to his heels.
"Gahahaha! By the sehehehehven legendary heroes, thahahat tickles! Owahahain Dahahark wohoho–HOHOHO–wohohon't yihihield though! No mahahahtter what vihihle tricks you–GAH AHAHAHHA NAHAHT THE HEHEHEHEELS!! MAHAHAHAMA!"
---
Once again the stocks faded and Owain was left on the dirt floor, breathless and vulnerable as Odin loomed over him. The mage's hands crackled with dark magicks and with but a flick of the wrist, jet black feathers were summoned. Owain giggled nervously as they floated around him, reluctantly bearing witness to Odin striking a pose on one leg before letting out his battle cry.
"Go my dark dusters! Show this false Hero the Fates of all that come to Múspel and challenge the mighty Odin Dark!"
Owain swatted at the fluffy feathers in fear but didn't even slow them as they all crowded down the sleeves of his shirt and packed themselves into his armpits. He kicked his legs and thrashed as they fluttered about inside his hollows and gave him the impression that feathery wings had seized some of his worst spots yet.
"Bahahaha! By the Bluhuhe Flames of Mihihssiletain, thahahat tihihckles toohoohoo! However, no vihihillain will overcome my iron wi–WEEHEEHEHEE HO-HOW IS ONE OF THEM COHOHOLD?!?"
Owain had seen all the feathers as black when they'd zipped down his clothes but one had hidden in the bushel, just a dark enough blue to blend in. Its owner sat in the crowd and rubbed at his smarting wing with a whimper before letting out a stream of giggles. It was impossible to keep a straight face thanks to the girl sitting in front of him with the fluffy white wings, considering she had confiscated his right foot and was using one of her feathers on it now.
Back in Owain's armpits, he was experiencing the unique trait of Ravens’ feathers firsthand. They seemed to have the ability to absorb the night itself and, as a result, were always slightly damp with oil and felt like they had been freshly chilled – not unlike their owner Naesala, who always gave the impression of being cold and slimy…though with a Heron feather being dragged between his toes he was far more cheery and smiley than usual. The way the feather applied its oil as it touched Owain's skin made it feel as if there was a cold paintbrush in the man's pits, and the ticklish sensations gave him the feeling of goosebumps on his skin.
"GAHAHAHA IT'S AS IF THE IHIHICY LANCE OF MAHAHALTET LICKS AT MY SKIHIHIN! GAHAHAHA IT REEEHEEALLY TICKLES!"
"Yes! The dark magics of Nohr leave, well, Nohr room for disbelief!"
Odin spun and gestured to the crowd again…only to be met with stone faces looking down on him, bar Prince Leo who had a goofy grin as if he was trying to hold it in. The sheer disapproval his pun got him made Odin step back and allowed the magic teasing Owain to fade.
---
Cries from the mage about how his audience needed to admit to themselves about his wordplay being clever were a good distraction for Owain to get back up. The raven feather was easy to spot as his sword hand twitched right for it as a way to avenge the indignities done to his arm. Odin didn't stand a chance when he tackled him down from behind and wrestled his ankles under one arm. Soon the mage's all too familiar feet were being painted nicely with the raven feather as he pounded his fists in the dirt. When Owain stroked the feather between his toes and twirled it, he just couldn't hold his tongue any longer.
"Pfffft Kehehehe! Vihihilest hohohorror! Yohohou thihihnk you tihihickle a mahahahster of dahahark mahahahgic into submihihi–ALAAHAHACK! ALAHAHAY! AHAHAH THAT'S TOHOHO MUCH! LEEHEEAHVE IT ALOHOHNE!"
Owain had left the feather between two of Odin's toes as the fool wiggled enough to tickle himself that way. With his newfound free hands, he grabbed one of his opponent's little toes between a thumb and forefinger before bending it back, then forward, then moving it side to side. He enjoyed how it seemed to be a volume dial for Odin's hysterical pleas and increasingly hard-to-understand blather.
"GAHAHAHA I MUST STAHAHAY STRONG! EEEHEEEEHEHEEHE-NO! A sohohorcerer of Nohr cahahn maintain his compohohsure no mahahatter what's happening to hihihis WAHAY too TIHIHICKLISH toesies! WIHIHITNEESS ME, PRINCE LEEHEEO! THIHIHS WILL BE MY BELHALLA BAHAHAHA!"
Leo did indeed watch the show with a goofy smile but his eyes observed nothing. Instead, he chewed his lip and did his best to hold in his chuckles as the "special" socks he'd been gifted drove him berserk. Forrest had made them special for him but Lady...err his wife, Hel, had hexed them right onto his feet. She'd made it clear in no uncertain terms that he was not to take them off. Every movement the prince made gave him the feeling that somehow the boy had lined the damn things with some kind of lint that teased the prince's sensitive feet. They got between his toes, fluffed the tops, and even seemed to have these dulled points that dug deep into his plush heel. His best bet was to just sit still, but it was increasingly hard with Niles getting up to naughty things behind him with Inigo and the Odin's wrestling about like goofy, ticklish idiots.
He looked down and saw the scene had been altered again while he was lost in introspection, with Odin having regained the upper hand and Owain suspended weightless in the air. The blonde flailed in futility as if he could swim his way down, but Odin was clutching one of his ankles to keep him from floating off too high. To Leo it evoked the image of a man holding onto a balloon, though he supposed you probably didn't tickle the foot of a balloon. The prince soon found it hard to keep up these casual observations of his when Niles, bored with Inigo's theatrics as Gerome massaged his foot, turned his attention to Lord Leo. The archer leaned in and began tapping his fingers along the sides of Leo's slightly chubby belly through his shirt, noticing how hard the man tried to stay so still.
"Ohhh my, someone's got a secreeet~" he chided as Leo began to sweat.
---
Back in the ring, Owain wasn't faring much better. He floated helplessly while Odin clawed at the sole of his foot. Unlike Owain, his mage self took care of his nails, and now their rounded tips dug perfectly into the sensitive skin of his arch as he chortled uncontrollably.
"Yes~ float and laugh, vile fiend! Not since the villain Fomortiis has a foe tested the master of the laughing arts – ODIN DARK – quite like you have! It's as if you’re a perfect copy, an Einherjar made to know all of my worst spots. I know not which foul villain sent you! Whether you seek to make me giggle for Gharnef, laugh for Loptous, or victimize me for Veld, it matters not! I will stand strong on my Path of Radiance!"
With this, Odin took two of his fingers and walked them in a straight path along Owain's sole.
"Eeeeheek! You evil suhuhubhuman!"
"Still your tongue! When you matched wits with a sorcerer such as I, you should have known that you'd lose! For Lord Leo, I tickle you until you can't speak anymore, just as if you'd mentioned the land of Valla!"
With this Odin took his two fingers and flicked their nails back and forth on the ball of Owain's captive foot.
"Gahahahaha, stahahp!"
"No! I said you're not gonna talk!"
Next Odin pinned back the littlest of Owain's toes and began scratching at its stem. This made his victim double over and try his damnedest to stop him, but the helpless way he hung in the air left him unable to even grab Odin, his flailing arms barely reaching close enough for his fingers to graze the mage’s hair.
"Ahahahaha! Fihhendish Fjalar it tihihihckles!"
"I said stop talking! They don't talk in Valla!"
Owain stuck his tongue out at the mage in defiance. This caused Odin to do the same, however, he had a different plan. While his tongue was out, Odin ran his thumb along it and then dug the wet digit into Owain's arch. The saliva worked as a lubricant and allowed him to slide his thumb even faster up and down inside Owain's arch. Soon it was going too fast to see and yet Owain was no quieter.
"By Nahahahga hehehelp mehehe! I'm lohohosing my mind!"
"Hey! Stop it! YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO TALK! You will make no fool of me! I'm going to impress Lord Leo and he's gonna remember me when he's known as the Hero-King!"
With that Odin gestured to the lord in question but was crestfallen at the fact that he was currently looking away. In the man's mind, it was due to Leo being ashamed of him and his poor performance. Really though it was because of the tears starting to flow as what felt like strands of yarn in his socks began flossing each of his pinky toes. His attempts to keep still had been thwarted by Niles and his games. Right now the archer was sitting back in his chair and using one foot to trace his toe along Leo's spine so damn slowly that he was going mad.
---
Odin's lack of concentration caused his spell to falter and allowed Owain to break free. Landing right atop the mage, he wasted no time in getting to work. Odin giggled madly as the other him's fingers invaded his armpits and dug right in. They quickly skittered their way down into the deepest parts of the blonde fuzz and found just the right spot to essentially get handles. Owain sat heavily on Odin's back in an attempt to restrict the man's movement, putting him in a ticklish camel clutch of sorts.
"Now! See how YOU are trapped, fiend! There was no need for a Binding Blade, as instead the sheer weight of your villainy led to you crumbling before me–"
"Eeeehheeehe gahahaha nahaht my pihihits! Itticklesitticklesitticklesittickles!"
"Hehe, it should tickle! After all, villains are supposed to lose to Heroes! Especially one whose sword hands twitch in the presence of such darkness as yours. Now sweat, my ticklish opponent! Make yourself shine like Starlight!"
Owain's hands traveled south and began tickling away at the undersides of his other self’s pecs, making the man howl as they flicked back and forth beneath his mammaries. Up in the crowd, this got a loud cheer from one sole spectator and earned herself some confused stares from her fellows. Loki didn't care though, she liked what she liked and wasn't going to be shy about it. A quick spell was all it took to get a cheering section going for the show. Well, more like a laughing section as the ghostly faces she'd summoned licked away at Laegjarn, Severa, and Thórr's own breasts, specifically that nice little sweet spot beneath them that she was such a fan of.
Owain was also a fan of that spot, having discovered it the first time he and Inigo had pushed Gerome too far by being a bit rough with Laurent's tender soles. The two of them had ended up finding a whole new spot after the Wyvern Rider had slipped his massive feet right into there and began wiggling his toes while standing atop them. Inigo had gone nuts and done his best to get out from under him, but Owain had been happy to lay back and let the toes scribble about in there. While Odin might have that memory as well (he wasn't sure how this all worked) but he seemed less inclined to let Owain go nuts, trying to get out as hard as he could.
---
A yell from the crowd distracted him and as a result one of his feet slipped forward, right within grabbing range of Odin. Ever the showman, rather than simply grab Owain's foot and dig right into the undersides of his toes, his hand lit up with magic as he opted to summon portals of shadow instead. Owain couldn't stop his momentum and ended up stepping into one of them, causing his helpless feet to pop right out the other one in front of Odin's face.
His reaction was immediate at the feeling of something slimy and wet being placed against his heel and traveling upwards. Owain let go Odin completely and fell back to the ground, laughing his head off as the mage used his fingers to pry back his toes and begin lapping at their stems. Up in the stands, Lissa cheered glad that one of her boys remembered her old trick from when she would tease Chrom. The memories inspired her to get up from her seat and look for her big brother so she could get in on the fun herself.
In seconds, Owain had gone from the one in charge to to curled into a ball and laughing helplessly as the mage simply ran his tongue inside his arch. Naturally he still made time to talk, teasing Owain while licking away at the captive feet that floated before him, and even threw in more grand gestures for emphasis.
"Well! Once again you find yourself at my mercy, fiend! *sluuuuurp*"
"Gahahahha, thahahat's so grohohoss!! Undeniable Úllr, it tihihickles!"
"Why yes, it does! In the old tongue of the Forest of Serenes, this would be known as an ancient Heron tradition involving showing someone's dominance–*sluuuuuurp, smack*"
In the stands, Leanne tried to speak up and say that was entirely made up but couldn't remember how to say the words in beorc.
"Gwhahahaha! By Baldr's Bristly Brushes! Your foohohul deeheeds–AWK!? HEHEHEHY NAHAHAT THE TOHOHOES!"
"Yes the toes, other me! These aren't simply your toes after all! Why, to the master of mysticism Odin Dark, these are none other than the treacherous Ten Elites; and now I must release the Immaculate One upon them to save the land!
*smooch, sluuuuurp, smack!*"
Naturally, this “Immaculate One” he referred to was none other than Odin's slithering tongue, and as it forced its way into Owain's toes all the man could do bang his fists on the ground in a tantrum at his helplessness. He rolled about, clutching at his sides and howling out catchphrase after strange catchphrase.
---
"Od's Overdramatic Tendencies! Ahahahaha! Hodr's Horrible Feelings, gahahaha! Thrud's Tired Cliche's–AHAHAHAHA IT TIHIHIHICKLES SO BAHAHAHAD! C'MON MAHAHAN STAHAHP! EEEHEHEHEK MEEHEHRCY!!"
"Mercy?! I'll have you know you face a swordsman with a heart as cold as Ilia!"
"I thohohohught you were a sohohorcerer!"
Odin was not amused by the cut-in and showed so by giving one of Owain's pinky toes a hard chomp.
"HEHEHEY! Stahahahp thahat!"
Odin not only refused to stop, but he also moved on to the next toe and gave that one a lick. Pushing it back, he then put his tongue to its stem and started slurping around it as Odin howled.
"Hehehehelp! It tihihihckles too muhuhuch! I cahahan't eheheheven thihihnk of a bahahahttle cry!"
While Owain laughed madly and Odin began lavishing the next toe with kisses, the mood in the stands was less than enthused. Finally, it was Hel who stood and spoke for them all.
"Enough! You are to be an infamous sorcerer of tickling magic, and yet all you can think to do is use your mouth? I will show the two of you how to entertain a crowd."
Odin released Owain from his spell and the two looked to her in confusion. Neither saw her great scythe appear behind and as a result, it was easy for the weapon to slice through both of them at the ankles! They winced in surprise but there was no blood, no pain, not even a cease of feeling. In fact, they both looked down to see their removed feet, wiggling their toes at their command.
---
"Now I shall show the two of you how to entertain."
Odin and Owain could do nothing as their disembodied feet floated away and offered themselves side by side before Hel. The goddess of death put her long fingers of cold bone to the men's soles and enjoyed how they squirmed down in the arena. The icy sensation of the digits alone had Owain shivering, and Odin Dark seemed to be no different. When Hel began skating her fingertips down the soles, neither of the men could contain themselves.
"Ahahaha by the frosty pluhuhumes of Nífl! So cohohohld! Ahahah I cahahan't take it!"
"Bahahaha it tihhihickles, it tihihickles! Maahahahamma sahahave me! It tihihihggles!"
Owain could only spare the quickest of disgusted looks at Odin and how quickly the man had crumbled to bits at Hel's touch. He couldn't believe this pale imitation was supposed to be him! While Hel plucking at his toes soon had him begging right along with Odin, at least he had enough self-respect to keep his mother’s name out of his mouth!
"Gahahaha nohohot my tohohoes! Thahaht's not fahahair! Hohohly Hoshido thahaht tickles! Eeehehehe!"
…Not a lot of self-respect, but a bit. If anything, the strained manner of his puns spurred Hel to tickle him harder. Placing her fingers to the tips of his big toes and scribbling them about on the blushing flesh, she couldn’t help but show a rare smile. Something about the way Owain babbled and cheered as she teased his toes and ran her fingers over his instep made her want to do it more and more.
The pair of blonds rolled about in the ring as they howled about Sacred Stones, Radiant Dawns, and Awakening all kinds of desires in the crowd. Hel's monopolization of them was ruining the show for all of them though, so nobody argued when a little blonde devil opened a gate and released the next act. Eitri smiled as the magician walked out and worked quickly. Tapping his wand on all three blondes in the ring, the garishly dressed magician gestured wildly to the crowd and the shocked Hel.
"LADIES AND GENTLEMAN! I'm sure you've all missed me! The great and magical Oggo has missed all of you and has been hard at work to come up with new tricks and treats for all his kinky crowd! These two giggling amateurs are quite the pair, but I think it's time for an experienced tickler to step in, don't you? ‘Starlight, Starbright! Let's help them laugh tonight!’"
Smoke filled the arena as a flash of light forced all in attendance to look away. When they looked back, everyone was surprised to see four figures tied to chairs down in the pit. Owain and Odin were surprised they were there, as was Hel. Nobody was more surprised than Eitri about her being there though.
"Let’s give a big hand for both of my lovely volunteers, folks! Big feet too in Hel's case! Don't they look nice up there?"
The crowd looked to the floating emblem that had appeared and the eight disembodied soles protruding from it. The wacky magician had even arranged them in order with Eitri's size 4's at the top, Owain's then Odin's, and finally Hel's ghostly soles at the bottom. Oggo floated up to it and with a flick of his wand, produced a bouquet of flowers. He then fluttered the cheap plastic foliage over each foot in succession making all four of them erupt with laughter.
"All these puns and references and nobody went for the obvious? Folks, I now present to you the Feet Emblem! If you'll all look beneath your seats, you'll find some copies of this for you all to take your time with!"
The crowd did so, and it didn't take long for one of the "volunteers" to realize they felt the tickling from the take-home version as well...
"What foul Awakening is this?! Could this be a Shadow Dragon taking a more pleasing form in my presence? Well, know this fiend: I will strike you down with my–"
The dark mage before him wore a heavy cloak but threw it off suddenly, revealing his short blonde hair and revealing outfit. What cut off Owain's words though was the man's face. It was boyishly handsome in an all too familiar way…because it was in fact his own!
"Your Blade of Light is no match for the impenetrable shades cast by ME, the unconquerable Odin Dark! Come, brave hero! Face a villain worthy of that cursed sword hand and quake!"
Owain was not at all used to being on the receiving end of his unique syntax, and seeing it copied caused him to take a step back as he was left stunned and unsure of how to continue. Unfortunately for the myrmidon, that was just the opening that Odin Dark needed. His hands glowed with his dark magic and the arena was shrouded in a dark shimmer.
"Now is the end of your Path of Radiance, oh Chosen Hero! Now begins the game! We are both toys of Those Who Slither in the Dark–"
"By all 12 Deadlords, that's a terrible name!"
"Silence! Now, look!"
A glowing crest had appeared on the wall of the arena that depicted the image of a foot over a background of wood with padding behind it, seemingly implying it had been stocked. Over its sole were three feathers of black, brown, and white all crossing each other.
"Now, Demon Swordsman, you may be pondering the Mystery of this Emblem! It’s to let you know that our duel has commenced! Lady Loki gave me the spell just for an occasion like this! From this point on, the crowd will react to our performance and in absence of their approval, a different kind of show will be put on to get everyone smiling! So come now, show me an Awakening that would make you worthy of that Cursed Sword!"
This doppelganger’s showmanship nearly left Owain speechless, but he regained his bearings and rebuffed it with a proclamation of his own. "Er…well, I may not understand your rules, but my sword hand rises to any challenge whether it be comprehended or not! You'll find that my facade is likened to the twin bangles of Sun and Moonlight! Indeed, my mother refers to me as..."
And with this Owain spun around before stomping his bare, size 10 foot to the ground, capping the flourish with one hand over his face for his signature pose.
"A treasure!"
---
After an awkward pause fell over the arena, Odin looked up to the crowd and beckoned them for judgment. Prince Leo sat in his chair and tried to ignore whatever Niles and Inigo were getting up to behind him. Sitting on his knees and leaning forwards, he shook his head and gave a thumbs down. He couldn't condone the way the boy had just embarrassed himself in front of everyone.
Odin smiled at the verdict and snapped his fingers, watching as the shadows surged and pounced. Owain took a step back but wasn't fast enough. The very foot that had moved back sank into the darkness and then rose with a sturdy, wooden stockade trapping it. He looked absolutely comical in his attempts to pull his foot free, but his struggling came to a pause when hands emerged from the shadows as well. They wiggled their fingers at him as they descended, and in taking Owain's toes proceeded to wiggle them about as well. The lad hopped on one foot, waving his arms about as he laughed and tried to yank from their grasp.
"Hahaha, Holy Wars thahahaht tichihickles! Quihihit it! Dahaha!"
The stockade and hands dissolved after a few moments, leaving Owain to convulse on the ground even more giggly than usual. In the stands, the various tickle pets and owners went wild with cheering; especially Gerome, whose big feet had been propped up on the lip of the balcony. The boy blushed furiously at the message of support towards Odin Dark that Niles and Inigo had been so kind as to scribble on his soles for him. Odin pointed to the signs from his fans and took a deep bow with an exaggerated flourish, making the crowd cheer even more for the villain. Owain got to his feet slowly and saw an opening in the other man's theatrics.
"Ah-ha! You've seen fit to underestimate me, and now my skills shall dawn upon you! RADIANTLY!"
Before the Dark Mage could even straighten up, Owain had tackled him right off his feet. The two grappled for a bit until Owain began tracing a finger along the cheek of the man's rump, teasing the skin beneath the thin fabric and enjoying the sputtering laughter it was getting out of him.
"Pffffpptt guahauah, fiiieeheeheend, dehehehevil! Geheheht awahahay from my buhuhuhttt!"
"Ah-ha! My sword hand twitches! What's this I detect on these cheeks? Could it be the mark of a devilish blood pact, binding you to do these evils?! Or might it be that little, lollipop-shaped birthmark that Inigo would always tease me about...EITHER WAY! Coochie-coochie-coo, fiend!"
---
Owain gestured to the crowd and they erupted in applause for him this time, begging him to give the mage’s posterior a more thorough examination. Their clapping reverberated throughout the arena and caused the conjured darkness to surge around poor, victimized Odin. Thick ropes of shadow bound his hands and ankles together to keep him in his awkward position, and an umbral hand pulled his trousers down to expose his twin cheeks to the element.
"Well now, the tables have certainly turned haven't they, vile sorcerer? As I stand here loving over these moonlight-bathed cheeks, all I can think is...might they be ticklish here?!"
Owain dug his fingers right into the area where the mage's rear met his thigh and scratched hard, getting rewarded with a goofy snort.
"No! *hnnrkk* nahaht my Bramimounds *fnnnkk* ahahah! It tihihickles!"
"Does it also tickle…here?”
Owain danced his fingers upward before he switched to only using one. He drilled it right into the meatiest part of the man's cheek before pulling it out and doing the same to the other buttock.
"BAHAhaha, Feathery Fjalar thahahat tickles! Gahaha mohohommy!"
"Oho! So you try to summon succubi to protect you! And you dare name them after my own dear, sweet mother?! Why I'll have you know that if I am indeed the cursed swordsman, then that would make her more of a sword saint! I'll give you a real tickling for that you Manster..err monster! How about here!"
Owain flicked a finger back and forth along the thin stretch of pink between the mage's cheeks and felt the man quiver. He grinned at the chance to exploit it…but suddenly the shadows surged around the spiky-haired pair as the scene changed. When the darkness cleared, both men were trapped in sets of ankle stocks facing each other, their soles pressed almost against each other with barely enough room between them to fit a finger.
---
A certain lady in the crowd didn't quite appreciate being referred to as "sword saint" and had taken Loki's foot into her lap to tickle away at the strategist's chunky toes until she'd acquiesced and let her pick the next game for her boys. Lissa had whispered it to Loki before smiling and grabbing Morgan back into her lap. She'd been having a fun time using the lad as her tickly little lap warmer, and after giving her nephew a bit of a breather she was ready to give his cute little hipbones another squeezy workout.
"Lahahahdy Laahahegjarn hahahalp! Hahahah it tihihickles!"
The Princess in question was sitting back in her chair, still gasping for air herself as she'd been the first one to taste Lissa's wrath before Morgan. Her big, brown sole read "Lissa's favorite!" written across in fresh ink from the pen the cleric had used, and above it were a few other attempts that Lissa had crossed out after misspelling some words. Morgan hadn't even noticed the way Lissa had worked Laegjarn's foot into her lap, and ever up for a challenge she'd been happy to test her sole against Lissa's fingers. In the end the pen had destroyed her, and now Morgan was on his own as it came for him and his defenseless ribs.
Back in the ring, the two men eyed each other nervously. Eventually it was Odin Dark who made the first move, leaning in and dancing his toes over Owain's helpless soles. He paid particular attention to scooping beneath the ball of the man's foot as he knew it would make him go wild.
"Go my ten elites! Your Crusade of Light begins under the auspicious orders of none other than I: ODIN DARK! The feet of this doppelganger are nothing more than mere Thrones to be seized, and here he is with no Boots to defend them!"
Owain's feet were so caught in such a state of surprise that they couldn't do a thing. Instead, the swordsman could only thrash about and strain at his bonds as he tried to pull his soles away from the aggressive toe attack. He accomplished neither of these unfortunately and only managed to flex his feet back in a way that granted Odin access to his heels.
"Gahahaha! By the sehehehehven legendary heroes, thahahat tickles! Owahahain Dahahark wohoho–HOHOHO–wohohon't yihihield though! No mahahahtter what vihihle tricks you–GAH AHAHAHHA NAHAHT THE HEHEHEHEELS!! MAHAHAHAMA!"
---
Once again the stocks faded and Owain was left on the dirt floor, breathless and vulnerable as Odin loomed over him. The mage's hands crackled with dark magicks and with but a flick of the wrist, jet black feathers were summoned. Owain giggled nervously as they floated around him, reluctantly bearing witness to Odin striking a pose on one leg before letting out his battle cry.
"Go my dark dusters! Show this false Hero the Fates of all that come to Múspel and challenge the mighty Odin Dark!"
Owain swatted at the fluffy feathers in fear but didn't even slow them as they all crowded down the sleeves of his shirt and packed themselves into his armpits. He kicked his legs and thrashed as they fluttered about inside his hollows and gave him the impression that feathery wings had seized some of his worst spots yet.
"Bahahaha! By the Bluhuhe Flames of Mihihssiletain, thahahat tihihckles toohoohoo! However, no vihihillain will overcome my iron wi–WEEHEEHEHEE HO-HOW IS ONE OF THEM COHOHOLD?!?"
Owain had seen all the feathers as black when they'd zipped down his clothes but one had hidden in the bushel, just a dark enough blue to blend in. Its owner sat in the crowd and rubbed at his smarting wing with a whimper before letting out a stream of giggles. It was impossible to keep a straight face thanks to the girl sitting in front of him with the fluffy white wings, considering she had confiscated his right foot and was using one of her feathers on it now.
Back in Owain's armpits, he was experiencing the unique trait of Ravens’ feathers firsthand. They seemed to have the ability to absorb the night itself and, as a result, were always slightly damp with oil and felt like they had been freshly chilled – not unlike their owner Naesala, who always gave the impression of being cold and slimy…though with a Heron feather being dragged between his toes he was far more cheery and smiley than usual. The way the feather applied its oil as it touched Owain's skin made it feel as if there was a cold paintbrush in the man's pits, and the ticklish sensations gave him the feeling of goosebumps on his skin.
"GAHAHAHA IT'S AS IF THE IHIHICY LANCE OF MAHAHALTET LICKS AT MY SKIHIHIN! GAHAHAHA IT REEEHEEALLY TICKLES!"
"Yes! The dark magics of Nohr leave, well, Nohr room for disbelief!"
Odin spun and gestured to the crowd again…only to be met with stone faces looking down on him, bar Prince Leo who had a goofy grin as if he was trying to hold it in. The sheer disapproval his pun got him made Odin step back and allowed the magic teasing Owain to fade.
---
Cries from the mage about how his audience needed to admit to themselves about his wordplay being clever were a good distraction for Owain to get back up. The raven feather was easy to spot as his sword hand twitched right for it as a way to avenge the indignities done to his arm. Odin didn't stand a chance when he tackled him down from behind and wrestled his ankles under one arm. Soon the mage's all too familiar feet were being painted nicely with the raven feather as he pounded his fists in the dirt. When Owain stroked the feather between his toes and twirled it, he just couldn't hold his tongue any longer.
"Pfffft Kehehehe! Vihihilest hohohorror! Yohohou thihihnk you tihihickle a mahahahster of dahahark mahahahgic into submihihi–ALAAHAHACK! ALAHAHAY! AHAHAH THAT'S TOHOHO MUCH! LEEHEEAHVE IT ALOHOHNE!"
Owain had left the feather between two of Odin's toes as the fool wiggled enough to tickle himself that way. With his newfound free hands, he grabbed one of his opponent's little toes between a thumb and forefinger before bending it back, then forward, then moving it side to side. He enjoyed how it seemed to be a volume dial for Odin's hysterical pleas and increasingly hard-to-understand blather.
"GAHAHAHA I MUST STAHAHAY STRONG! EEEHEEEEHEHEEHE-NO! A sohohorcerer of Nohr cahahn maintain his compohohsure no mahahatter what's happening to hihihis WAHAY too TIHIHICKLISH toesies! WIHIHITNEESS ME, PRINCE LEEHEEO! THIHIHS WILL BE MY BELHALLA BAHAHAHA!"
Leo did indeed watch the show with a goofy smile but his eyes observed nothing. Instead, he chewed his lip and did his best to hold in his chuckles as the "special" socks he'd been gifted drove him berserk. Forrest had made them special for him but Lady...err his wife, Hel, had hexed them right onto his feet. She'd made it clear in no uncertain terms that he was not to take them off. Every movement the prince made gave him the feeling that somehow the boy had lined the damn things with some kind of lint that teased the prince's sensitive feet. They got between his toes, fluffed the tops, and even seemed to have these dulled points that dug deep into his plush heel. His best bet was to just sit still, but it was increasingly hard with Niles getting up to naughty things behind him with Inigo and the Odin's wrestling about like goofy, ticklish idiots.
He looked down and saw the scene had been altered again while he was lost in introspection, with Odin having regained the upper hand and Owain suspended weightless in the air. The blonde flailed in futility as if he could swim his way down, but Odin was clutching one of his ankles to keep him from floating off too high. To Leo it evoked the image of a man holding onto a balloon, though he supposed you probably didn't tickle the foot of a balloon. The prince soon found it hard to keep up these casual observations of his when Niles, bored with Inigo's theatrics as Gerome massaged his foot, turned his attention to Lord Leo. The archer leaned in and began tapping his fingers along the sides of Leo's slightly chubby belly through his shirt, noticing how hard the man tried to stay so still.
"Ohhh my, someone's got a secreeet~" he chided as Leo began to sweat.
---
Back in the ring, Owain wasn't faring much better. He floated helplessly while Odin clawed at the sole of his foot. Unlike Owain, his mage self took care of his nails, and now their rounded tips dug perfectly into the sensitive skin of his arch as he chortled uncontrollably.
"Yes~ float and laugh, vile fiend! Not since the villain Fomortiis has a foe tested the master of the laughing arts – ODIN DARK – quite like you have! It's as if you’re a perfect copy, an Einherjar made to know all of my worst spots. I know not which foul villain sent you! Whether you seek to make me giggle for Gharnef, laugh for Loptous, or victimize me for Veld, it matters not! I will stand strong on my Path of Radiance!"
With this, Odin took two of his fingers and walked them in a straight path along Owain's sole.
"Eeeeheek! You evil suhuhubhuman!"
"Still your tongue! When you matched wits with a sorcerer such as I, you should have known that you'd lose! For Lord Leo, I tickle you until you can't speak anymore, just as if you'd mentioned the land of Valla!"
With this Odin took his two fingers and flicked their nails back and forth on the ball of Owain's captive foot.
"Gahahahaha, stahahp!"
"No! I said you're not gonna talk!"
Next Odin pinned back the littlest of Owain's toes and began scratching at its stem. This made his victim double over and try his damnedest to stop him, but the helpless way he hung in the air left him unable to even grab Odin, his flailing arms barely reaching close enough for his fingers to graze the mage’s hair.
"Ahahahaha! Fihhendish Fjalar it tihihihckles!"
"I said stop talking! They don't talk in Valla!"
Owain stuck his tongue out at the mage in defiance. This caused Odin to do the same, however, he had a different plan. While his tongue was out, Odin ran his thumb along it and then dug the wet digit into Owain's arch. The saliva worked as a lubricant and allowed him to slide his thumb even faster up and down inside Owain's arch. Soon it was going too fast to see and yet Owain was no quieter.
"By Nahahahga hehehelp mehehe! I'm lohohosing my mind!"
"Hey! Stop it! YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO TALK! You will make no fool of me! I'm going to impress Lord Leo and he's gonna remember me when he's known as the Hero-King!"
With that Odin gestured to the lord in question but was crestfallen at the fact that he was currently looking away. In the man's mind, it was due to Leo being ashamed of him and his poor performance. Really though it was because of the tears starting to flow as what felt like strands of yarn in his socks began flossing each of his pinky toes. His attempts to keep still had been thwarted by Niles and his games. Right now the archer was sitting back in his chair and using one foot to trace his toe along Leo's spine so damn slowly that he was going mad.
---
Odin's lack of concentration caused his spell to falter and allowed Owain to break free. Landing right atop the mage, he wasted no time in getting to work. Odin giggled madly as the other him's fingers invaded his armpits and dug right in. They quickly skittered their way down into the deepest parts of the blonde fuzz and found just the right spot to essentially get handles. Owain sat heavily on Odin's back in an attempt to restrict the man's movement, putting him in a ticklish camel clutch of sorts.
"Now! See how YOU are trapped, fiend! There was no need for a Binding Blade, as instead the sheer weight of your villainy led to you crumbling before me–"
"Eeeehheeehe gahahaha nahaht my pihihits! Itticklesitticklesitticklesittickles!"
"Hehe, it should tickle! After all, villains are supposed to lose to Heroes! Especially one whose sword hands twitch in the presence of such darkness as yours. Now sweat, my ticklish opponent! Make yourself shine like Starlight!"
Owain's hands traveled south and began tickling away at the undersides of his other self’s pecs, making the man howl as they flicked back and forth beneath his mammaries. Up in the crowd, this got a loud cheer from one sole spectator and earned herself some confused stares from her fellows. Loki didn't care though, she liked what she liked and wasn't going to be shy about it. A quick spell was all it took to get a cheering section going for the show. Well, more like a laughing section as the ghostly faces she'd summoned licked away at Laegjarn, Severa, and Thórr's own breasts, specifically that nice little sweet spot beneath them that she was such a fan of.
Owain was also a fan of that spot, having discovered it the first time he and Inigo had pushed Gerome too far by being a bit rough with Laurent's tender soles. The two of them had ended up finding a whole new spot after the Wyvern Rider had slipped his massive feet right into there and began wiggling his toes while standing atop them. Inigo had gone nuts and done his best to get out from under him, but Owain had been happy to lay back and let the toes scribble about in there. While Odin might have that memory as well (he wasn't sure how this all worked) but he seemed less inclined to let Owain go nuts, trying to get out as hard as he could.
---
A yell from the crowd distracted him and as a result one of his feet slipped forward, right within grabbing range of Odin. Ever the showman, rather than simply grab Owain's foot and dig right into the undersides of his toes, his hand lit up with magic as he opted to summon portals of shadow instead. Owain couldn't stop his momentum and ended up stepping into one of them, causing his helpless feet to pop right out the other one in front of Odin's face.
His reaction was immediate at the feeling of something slimy and wet being placed against his heel and traveling upwards. Owain let go Odin completely and fell back to the ground, laughing his head off as the mage used his fingers to pry back his toes and begin lapping at their stems. Up in the stands, Lissa cheered glad that one of her boys remembered her old trick from when she would tease Chrom. The memories inspired her to get up from her seat and look for her big brother so she could get in on the fun herself.
In seconds, Owain had gone from the one in charge to to curled into a ball and laughing helplessly as the mage simply ran his tongue inside his arch. Naturally he still made time to talk, teasing Owain while licking away at the captive feet that floated before him, and even threw in more grand gestures for emphasis.
"Well! Once again you find yourself at my mercy, fiend! *sluuuuurp*"
"Gahahahha, thahahat's so grohohoss!! Undeniable Úllr, it tihihickles!"
"Why yes, it does! In the old tongue of the Forest of Serenes, this would be known as an ancient Heron tradition involving showing someone's dominance–*sluuuuuurp, smack*"
In the stands, Leanne tried to speak up and say that was entirely made up but couldn't remember how to say the words in beorc.
"Gwhahahaha! By Baldr's Bristly Brushes! Your foohohul deeheeds–AWK!? HEHEHEHY NAHAHAT THE TOHOHOES!"
"Yes the toes, other me! These aren't simply your toes after all! Why, to the master of mysticism Odin Dark, these are none other than the treacherous Ten Elites; and now I must release the Immaculate One upon them to save the land!
*smooch, sluuuuurp, smack!*"
Naturally, this “Immaculate One” he referred to was none other than Odin's slithering tongue, and as it forced its way into Owain's toes all the man could do bang his fists on the ground in a tantrum at his helplessness. He rolled about, clutching at his sides and howling out catchphrase after strange catchphrase.
---
"Od's Overdramatic Tendencies! Ahahahaha! Hodr's Horrible Feelings, gahahaha! Thrud's Tired Cliche's–AHAHAHAHA IT TIHIHIHICKLES SO BAHAHAHAD! C'MON MAHAHAN STAHAHP! EEEHEHEHEK MEEHEHRCY!!"
"Mercy?! I'll have you know you face a swordsman with a heart as cold as Ilia!"
"I thohohohught you were a sohohorcerer!"
Odin was not amused by the cut-in and showed so by giving one of Owain's pinky toes a hard chomp.
"HEHEHEY! Stahahahp thahat!"
Odin not only refused to stop, but he also moved on to the next toe and gave that one a lick. Pushing it back, he then put his tongue to its stem and started slurping around it as Odin howled.
"Hehehehelp! It tihihihckles too muhuhuch! I cahahan't eheheheven thihihnk of a bahahahttle cry!"
While Owain laughed madly and Odin began lavishing the next toe with kisses, the mood in the stands was less than enthused. Finally, it was Hel who stood and spoke for them all.
"Enough! You are to be an infamous sorcerer of tickling magic, and yet all you can think to do is use your mouth? I will show the two of you how to entertain a crowd."
Odin released Owain from his spell and the two looked to her in confusion. Neither saw her great scythe appear behind and as a result, it was easy for the weapon to slice through both of them at the ankles! They winced in surprise but there was no blood, no pain, not even a cease of feeling. In fact, they both looked down to see their removed feet, wiggling their toes at their command.
---
"Now I shall show the two of you how to entertain."
Odin and Owain could do nothing as their disembodied feet floated away and offered themselves side by side before Hel. The goddess of death put her long fingers of cold bone to the men's soles and enjoyed how they squirmed down in the arena. The icy sensation of the digits alone had Owain shivering, and Odin Dark seemed to be no different. When Hel began skating her fingertips down the soles, neither of the men could contain themselves.
"Ahahaha by the frosty pluhuhumes of Nífl! So cohohohld! Ahahah I cahahan't take it!"
"Bahahaha it tihhihickles, it tihihickles! Maahahahamma sahahave me! It tihihihggles!"
Owain could only spare the quickest of disgusted looks at Odin and how quickly the man had crumbled to bits at Hel's touch. He couldn't believe this pale imitation was supposed to be him! While Hel plucking at his toes soon had him begging right along with Odin, at least he had enough self-respect to keep his mother’s name out of his mouth!
"Gahahaha nohohot my tohohoes! Thahaht's not fahahair! Hohohly Hoshido thahaht tickles! Eeehehehe!"
…Not a lot of self-respect, but a bit. If anything, the strained manner of his puns spurred Hel to tickle him harder. Placing her fingers to the tips of his big toes and scribbling them about on the blushing flesh, she couldn’t help but show a rare smile. Something about the way Owain babbled and cheered as she teased his toes and ran her fingers over his instep made her want to do it more and more.
The pair of blonds rolled about in the ring as they howled about Sacred Stones, Radiant Dawns, and Awakening all kinds of desires in the crowd. Hel's monopolization of them was ruining the show for all of them though, so nobody argued when a little blonde devil opened a gate and released the next act. Eitri smiled as the magician walked out and worked quickly. Tapping his wand on all three blondes in the ring, the garishly dressed magician gestured wildly to the crowd and the shocked Hel.
"LADIES AND GENTLEMAN! I'm sure you've all missed me! The great and magical Oggo has missed all of you and has been hard at work to come up with new tricks and treats for all his kinky crowd! These two giggling amateurs are quite the pair, but I think it's time for an experienced tickler to step in, don't you? ‘Starlight, Starbright! Let's help them laugh tonight!’"
Smoke filled the arena as a flash of light forced all in attendance to look away. When they looked back, everyone was surprised to see four figures tied to chairs down in the pit. Owain and Odin were surprised they were there, as was Hel. Nobody was more surprised than Eitri about her being there though.
"Let’s give a big hand for both of my lovely volunteers, folks! Big feet too in Hel's case! Don't they look nice up there?"
The crowd looked to the floating emblem that had appeared and the eight disembodied soles protruding from it. The wacky magician had even arranged them in order with Eitri's size 4's at the top, Owain's then Odin's, and finally Hel's ghostly soles at the bottom. Oggo floated up to it and with a flick of his wand, produced a bouquet of flowers. He then fluttered the cheap plastic foliage over each foot in succession making all four of them erupt with laughter.
"All these puns and references and nobody went for the obvious? Folks, I now present to you the Feet Emblem! If you'll all look beneath your seats, you'll find some copies of this for you all to take your time with!"
The crowd did so, and it didn't take long for one of the "volunteers" to realize they felt the tickling from the take-home version as well...
