Hello there. See if this teensy experiment works. If it does, send a notice. If it doesn't, send a notice anyway. Apologies for the long wait. Exams, writer's block and Shin Megami Tensei will do that to ya. Uploading all-new, previously unrevealed Arcana and On Gunslingers and Monsters chapters today, too. Check it all out.

Own nothing, and I don't make a thin red dime. Weep with me or throw a review to this end of the woods.

Rip Van Winkle sobbed, desperately sobbing as she knelt between Tubalcain Alhambra's legs. Chittering with tears in her eyes as one of her hands gingerly stroked Alhambra's crotch, she desperately leant in, clasping one of his as she gently kissed it.

-I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I really didn't want zis to happen! I am so sorry, Herr Alhambra! I didn't want to make you like zis! It's all my fault! I should have realized...!

And the man himself clamped shut his eyes, denying with all the fervor a man could muster such a situation was ocurring to him. In the games section of the Millennium compund, no less.

But as he kept feebly trying to push the Huntress away, the more she insisted in frantically rubbing the space between his legs, and in pushing away the hand he firmly kept there.

Biting his lip to avoid a soul-wrenching moan, Alhambra grunted:

-¡Señorita Teniente Van Winkle, por favor! You... aghhh! You're making it worse!

-Please let me make it all better, Herr Alhambra! I... I'm going to help you! I just have to rub it a bit!

-¡No! Por favor... just leave me! Unfff!

Tears dripping from her face, Van Winkle grabbed his hand and begged:

-I have to help you get over this! Please let me help!

And Alhambra, against his will, let out a plaintive cry. Gently, he whispered:

-Won't... won't do any good. Please, get ice! Ice, I... ahhh, ahhh! I beg you!

Finally losing whatever tiny scraps remained of her cool, Rip van Winkle asked furiously:

-VHAT ON EARTH IST ICE SUPPOSED TO DO ZAT A KISS UND A RUB VON'T?

And that exact instant, the door opened, revealing the Doctor in all his awful glory.

-What the...?

-Oh, Herr Doktor, Herr Doktor!

Dropping his bag, the Bataillon's official physician remained there with his jaw gaping open.

-What is going in here?

-Oh, Dok! Herr Alhambra und I vere playing, ve vere just playing!

-Lieutenant! Calm down. Now, Alhambra, what on Earth happened here?

Subduing his grunts and heaves to the maximum of his capacity, Alhambra hissed:

-We... we were playing. Only playing.

-I hear that. Aaaand?

Sighing painedly, Alhambra admitted:

-The ball took a nasty deflection and hit me in the crotch. Unff! Really, ahh, see? I'm fine! I'm fine! I... I just need a little ice...

As the Gambler limped away with whatever dignity he still had from the tennis court, the sobbing Van Winkle collected the strewn racquets and stared at him.

-VHY VON'T HE LET ME HELP?

And that's the first time Millennium had any notice of Rip Van Winkle's yangire side. And that's terrible.