caitlin cooke

Alexis sat down against the wall, watching Noah land blow after blow. She could see the strength and mastery in his movements. She suspected he could tear through that canvas bag with his fist like it was nothing. For him to be forced into a corner, to be bested by these monsters, what did that say about her?

He’d already showered so his short messy hair had been combed back and was still damp. He was wearing his slacks and belt, but no button up shirt on yet. He liked to wait until his hair was a bit drier before he put it on. As he pulled cups and the coffee tin from the cupboards above, she couldn’t help but notice the way his muscles shifted on his back, the sparse long hairs that sprouted from his back and shoulders. He only got to the gyms on the weekends, but he walked around job sights a lot for his work, so he had a nice balance between muscle and leanness. Before last night she wouldn’t have given it a second thought, but now she sat there with her mouth open, staring like a dead fish.

Falco slammed his fists together. “Heavy Water!” Moisture was gathered from the air and formed two liquid spheres, immersing his hands. Noah had seen him use this technique in earlier matches. Despite being made of water, the two spheres were hard as rock, and their added weight made his punches stronger, but that wasn’t all. Along with strong offense, the orbs provided good defense, acting as both shields and catcher’s mitts for enemy attacks. It was a simple technique, but quite potent.