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Name: Jethro 'J' Biggs
Age: 47
Gender: Male
Species: Wigglytuff [Cute Charm]
Type: Normal
Team: Junkyard (coach)
Normal Theme: "Champion Nibble", Mr. Scruff
Battle Theme: "Somewhere About Nothing", Apocalyptica
[Moveset]
Sing/Charm/Defense Curl/Pound
Disable/Rollout/Doubleslap/Rest
Body Slam/Gyro Ball/Wake-Up Slap/Hyper Voice
Toxic/Ice Beam/Protect/Thunderbolt
Psychic/Shadow Ball/Flamethrower/Dream Eater
Giga Impact/Brick Break/Endure/Sleep Talk
"I've forgotten more about the game than you'll probably even know... but how's this?. You help me remember, and I share anything that comes back to me. Good? Good. Let's go."
To call Team Junkyard a 'team' is generally correct, even though they are often called a 'gang' by most other teams, and rightly so. All in all, they're a bunch of decent kids with bad pasts who found each other and became something between a support group and a hooligan club. Every dysfunctional family needs its glue, however, and the man that would be the hand of Fate that so gently scooped them all up never had any intention of being a father figure, let alone coaching.
Jethro's start was pretty typical of high-end fighter types: both of his parents were battlers at some point, and both were Wigglytuffs of some skill. However, his kind weren't exactly known as champion material, and that sort of 'fate' hung of Jethro's head for many a year. He didn't exactly care, however, and worked very hard through schooling. After graduating high in his class, he stepped away from college to pursue a battling career. At first the road was rocky, but Jethro eventually began to show signs of being something special; a Wigglytuff man of decidedly huge stature who was still nonetheless deceptively agile was a rare find, and when that failed him, he merely beat his opponents via attrition. Jethro went on to do well in a number of minor leagues and make may friends along the way, being extremely friendly and outgoing outside of the arena.
His big break came when he was offered a contract into a new major league surging to the forefront of pokebattling, headed by the notoriously devious (and lecherous) Creston 'The Cresting King' Toliver. It was less Jethro's talent and more his size (Creston was fond of bulky types) that drew the Kingdra's attention, and the young and naive Jethro gladly took the opportunity to sign on. The fights were the best he'd had in his life, and the pay was astounding, but it became obvious that Creston wanted more from Jethro than just his blood on the mat. Many covert and blatant advances later, Jethro demanded out of his contract... and was dismayed to find out that the only way to prematurely end it (as legally stated in the document itself) was to defeat Creston in a match, something that in nearly two *hundred* battles, only five people had managed; two of those were the scandal-plagued brawler Natasha 'The Devil' Bono and battler-turned-tycoon Felix Blackclaw. A brutal match ensued, and it took everything that Jethro had... but he succeeded. Leaving the arena, however, required a stretcher; Creston has broken many of Jethro's ribs, one of his legs, an arm, and his jaw with strikes and his trademark point-blank Hydro Pumps. The fight had left a very sour taste in Jethro's mouth, and after he recovered, he officially retired from fighting at the age of 37. Never having had the chance to active pursue titles and trophies even with a career win percentage over 75%, Jethro's career had been labeled as 'tragically incomplete' by just about every publication that mattered.
Wanting to put that life behind him was not easy. All he had learned from family, trainers and friends remained, and he couldn't stay out of the gyms forever. Even with his aches and pains from various injuries, he kept himself in great shape while pondering what to do with his savings. A call from a friend and some talking led to Jethro getting into the junk recycling business, which quickly turned a profit and was all he needed to help him keep his mind off of the past.
Then, one day, when called in to act as a witness for a murder case, Jethro came across the young, troubled Bug-type named Shore Edgers, and saw the glint of a battler in his eye. Something within him flared back to life... and J would never be the same. The rest, as they say, is history.
J is immense, plain and simple. Massive in stature and size (six and three-quarter feet tall and well over three hundred pounds), he towers over many other morphs and looks like a man who worked hard all his life. His form has the expected 'tuff plushness, but firmer presses reveal muscle that's still in battle-ready shape--- J still daily trains and exercises, either on his own or with his 'kids'. Even then, his battle injuries have taken their toll; he's riddled with scars from slashes, burns and gouges, and in bad weather he walks with a noticeable limp. He has a fondness for coveralls, plain t-shirts, doorags and Mister Tangle's Blue Cream Soda. He, of course, recycles the bottles.
Battling J is like battling a brick wall; it's all about whether one can knock through the wall before they break their bodies on it. While he has a massive variety of techniques to handle just about any type, he prefers to let opponents wear themselves down trying to beat him, then capitalize on their exhaustion.
Age: 47
Gender: Male
Species: Wigglytuff [Cute Charm]
Type: Normal
Team: Junkyard (coach)
Normal Theme: "Champion Nibble", Mr. Scruff
Battle Theme: "Somewhere About Nothing", Apocalyptica
[Moveset]
Sing/Charm/Defense Curl/Pound
Disable/Rollout/Doubleslap/Rest
Body Slam/Gyro Ball/Wake-Up Slap/Hyper Voice
Toxic/Ice Beam/Protect/Thunderbolt
Psychic/Shadow Ball/Flamethrower/Dream Eater
Giga Impact/Brick Break/Endure/Sleep Talk
"I've forgotten more about the game than you'll probably even know... but how's this?. You help me remember, and I share anything that comes back to me. Good? Good. Let's go."
To call Team Junkyard a 'team' is generally correct, even though they are often called a 'gang' by most other teams, and rightly so. All in all, they're a bunch of decent kids with bad pasts who found each other and became something between a support group and a hooligan club. Every dysfunctional family needs its glue, however, and the man that would be the hand of Fate that so gently scooped them all up never had any intention of being a father figure, let alone coaching.
Jethro's start was pretty typical of high-end fighter types: both of his parents were battlers at some point, and both were Wigglytuffs of some skill. However, his kind weren't exactly known as champion material, and that sort of 'fate' hung of Jethro's head for many a year. He didn't exactly care, however, and worked very hard through schooling. After graduating high in his class, he stepped away from college to pursue a battling career. At first the road was rocky, but Jethro eventually began to show signs of being something special; a Wigglytuff man of decidedly huge stature who was still nonetheless deceptively agile was a rare find, and when that failed him, he merely beat his opponents via attrition. Jethro went on to do well in a number of minor leagues and make may friends along the way, being extremely friendly and outgoing outside of the arena.
His big break came when he was offered a contract into a new major league surging to the forefront of pokebattling, headed by the notoriously devious (and lecherous) Creston 'The Cresting King' Toliver. It was less Jethro's talent and more his size (Creston was fond of bulky types) that drew the Kingdra's attention, and the young and naive Jethro gladly took the opportunity to sign on. The fights were the best he'd had in his life, and the pay was astounding, but it became obvious that Creston wanted more from Jethro than just his blood on the mat. Many covert and blatant advances later, Jethro demanded out of his contract... and was dismayed to find out that the only way to prematurely end it (as legally stated in the document itself) was to defeat Creston in a match, something that in nearly two *hundred* battles, only five people had managed; two of those were the scandal-plagued brawler Natasha 'The Devil' Bono and battler-turned-tycoon Felix Blackclaw. A brutal match ensued, and it took everything that Jethro had... but he succeeded. Leaving the arena, however, required a stretcher; Creston has broken many of Jethro's ribs, one of his legs, an arm, and his jaw with strikes and his trademark point-blank Hydro Pumps. The fight had left a very sour taste in Jethro's mouth, and after he recovered, he officially retired from fighting at the age of 37. Never having had the chance to active pursue titles and trophies even with a career win percentage over 75%, Jethro's career had been labeled as 'tragically incomplete' by just about every publication that mattered.
Wanting to put that life behind him was not easy. All he had learned from family, trainers and friends remained, and he couldn't stay out of the gyms forever. Even with his aches and pains from various injuries, he kept himself in great shape while pondering what to do with his savings. A call from a friend and some talking led to Jethro getting into the junk recycling business, which quickly turned a profit and was all he needed to help him keep his mind off of the past.
Then, one day, when called in to act as a witness for a murder case, Jethro came across the young, troubled Bug-type named Shore Edgers, and saw the glint of a battler in his eye. Something within him flared back to life... and J would never be the same. The rest, as they say, is history.
J is immense, plain and simple. Massive in stature and size (six and three-quarter feet tall and well over three hundred pounds), he towers over many other morphs and looks like a man who worked hard all his life. His form has the expected 'tuff plushness, but firmer presses reveal muscle that's still in battle-ready shape--- J still daily trains and exercises, either on his own or with his 'kids'. Even then, his battle injuries have taken their toll; he's riddled with scars from slashes, burns and gouges, and in bad weather he walks with a noticeable limp. He has a fondness for coveralls, plain t-shirts, doorags and Mister Tangle's Blue Cream Soda. He, of course, recycles the bottles.
Battling J is like battling a brick wall; it's all about whether one can knock through the wall before they break their bodies on it. While he has a massive variety of techniques to handle just about any type, he prefers to let opponents wear themselves down trying to beat him, then capitalize on their exhaustion.
Category All / Pokemon
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 500 x 700px
File Size 258.1 kB
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