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CommanderCTC! Sly Cooper is looking a lot bigger these days, after an obsession with bodybuilding between heists grew him into an absolute tank- now, he's out to prove he's still the savviest and slickest thief in the game, a half ton of brawn and muscle be damned. Enjoy!
"What's the problem, Bentley?" Sly asked.
"Well… the Traitor's Gate was used for small boats to deliver prisoners, in the old days."
"Uh-huh?" the raccoon asked.
"Well… it might be a tight fit for you," the turtle replied.
Sly arched his brow drily. "Just leave it to me." He grinned again and then turned to his arm, curling it and flexing with confidence. "I've got all I need right here. Just tell Murray to be ready with the engine. This'll be over quickly."
"But Sly—!" the raccoon shut off his comm to avoid distracting chatter, and then started plotting out his best route forward. He ran his finger across the horizon, eyeing the line of street lamps that ran along the river— he'd leap across them before diving into the river, and then right up through the Traitor's Gate. Easy.
He took a mighty leap, his foot landing assuredly on the street lamp. He leapt across them in large, neat arcs, but he winced, sucking through his teeth, when he heard the whine of metal as the street lamps buckled under his footfalls. Then, his hook caught an iron bar, looping the raccoon around so he launched himself into the air, landing on a far sturdier stone precipice on a building right on the waterfront. He breathed with some relief, blowing air through his cheeks as he braced himself before diving into the murky water of the Thames. He caught a glimpse of himself in the reflective surface of a large puddle, and grinned tightly; what a figure he cut, now.
Sly Cooper was a very different raccoon with a new lease on life— bigger, stronger, faster, and, as he hoped to prove tonight, better. He had always been lean and wiry, but damn if there were some Cooper genes that responded very well to building some serious brawn. His steel-gray fur covered a body of monumental proportions and indomitable might, so sturdy looking it was as if the raccoon was made of living stone. His biceps alone were as big as melons, his anvil-like triceps primed and pumped as he hunched forward, clutching the stone parapet. Sly's titanic, bulging pecs were only outdone by the sheer wing span of his lats, a pair of sheer tectonic plates of muscle bolstering his back. His taut, trunk-sized legs were coiled like springs as he prepared to leap, his gear strung tightly across his gargantuan physique. He steadied himself, and then leapt into the sky, his form ever briefly eclipsing the moon, before he plunged into the river.
CommanderCTC! Sly Cooper is looking a lot bigger these days, after an obsession with bodybuilding between heists grew him into an absolute tank- now, he's out to prove he's still the savviest and slickest thief in the game, a half ton of brawn and muscle be damned. Enjoy!"What's the problem, Bentley?" Sly asked.
"Well… the Traitor's Gate was used for small boats to deliver prisoners, in the old days."
"Uh-huh?" the raccoon asked.
"Well… it might be a tight fit for you," the turtle replied.
Sly arched his brow drily. "Just leave it to me." He grinned again and then turned to his arm, curling it and flexing with confidence. "I've got all I need right here. Just tell Murray to be ready with the engine. This'll be over quickly."
"But Sly—!" the raccoon shut off his comm to avoid distracting chatter, and then started plotting out his best route forward. He ran his finger across the horizon, eyeing the line of street lamps that ran along the river— he'd leap across them before diving into the river, and then right up through the Traitor's Gate. Easy.
He took a mighty leap, his foot landing assuredly on the street lamp. He leapt across them in large, neat arcs, but he winced, sucking through his teeth, when he heard the whine of metal as the street lamps buckled under his footfalls. Then, his hook caught an iron bar, looping the raccoon around so he launched himself into the air, landing on a far sturdier stone precipice on a building right on the waterfront. He breathed with some relief, blowing air through his cheeks as he braced himself before diving into the murky water of the Thames. He caught a glimpse of himself in the reflective surface of a large puddle, and grinned tightly; what a figure he cut, now.
Sly Cooper was a very different raccoon with a new lease on life— bigger, stronger, faster, and, as he hoped to prove tonight, better. He had always been lean and wiry, but damn if there were some Cooper genes that responded very well to building some serious brawn. His steel-gray fur covered a body of monumental proportions and indomitable might, so sturdy looking it was as if the raccoon was made of living stone. His biceps alone were as big as melons, his anvil-like triceps primed and pumped as he hunched forward, clutching the stone parapet. Sly's titanic, bulging pecs were only outdone by the sheer wing span of his lats, a pair of sheer tectonic plates of muscle bolstering his back. His taut, trunk-sized legs were coiled like springs as he prepared to leap, his gear strung tightly across his gargantuan physique. He steadied himself, and then leapt into the sky, his form ever briefly eclipsing the moon, before he plunged into the river.
Category Story / Muscle
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 120 x 120px
File Size 162.8 kB
Listed in Folders
Speaking of Sly Cooper, I can imagine the epilogue of Stealing Hearts with Sly being even much huger, thicker, wider, beefier, bulkier, taller, and more massive than he got in the second part in the Iron Will Gym, possibly from working out in every high-profile gym in each state, nation, province, country, county, and town between heists since his getaway from Carmelita at the Iron Will Gym, as she was trailing after Sly, promising to see how much bigger he can get now that he's got the bodybuilding bug going on.
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