Incineroar (Jock)

He can't stand losing, not even at marbles. If someone challenges him at the gym or a party, he'll take it as a matter of personal honor. He might seem like your typical hallway bully, but he's actually the first to defend a nerd if he sees someone else bothering them. He's a tough guy, but he has a code of honor. He'd probably sit in the back of the class, feet up on the table, dozing behind his sunglasses, relying on his charm and athletic abilities to keep him on the team. He'd be the life of the fraternity party. Even though he acts like a lone wolf sometimes, he'd stick up for any of his teammates without hesitation. He loves being the center of attention. At fraternity parties, he's the one who organizes arm wrestling matches or strength challenges. But if anyone tries to pull a prank that crosses the line, he'll step in. His life revolves around the college gym. He doesn't use the machines; He's a machine. He's the kind of jock who screams while lifting weights just to get everyone's attention. On the field, his style is pure "Heel": if the referee isn't looking, he'll use a dirty move to stop his opponent, but then he'll celebrate like a national hero.

Appearance: It is an anthropomorphic Pokémon with a robust build. Its arms are noticeably long and strong compared to its legs, emphasizing its ability to grab and attack. Its body is covered in primarily black and red fur. It has black stripes on its limbs and torso, similar to those of a tiger, and red markings on its face resembling a wrestler's mask. It possesses sharp claws and yellow eyes with vertical pupils, maintaining its wild cat essence despite its upright posture. He wears a classic jacket with a black body and white leather sleeves. The team logo is emblazoned across his chest. Underneath, he wears a tight-fitting athletic shirt to show off his muscles, displaying his team number. He wears a baseball cap backward with the university logo and large over-ear headphones around his neck. He's adorably overprotective. He turns bright red when he receives a genuine compliment. He prefers quiet dates at home, where he can stop "acting" and just be a big, affectionate cat.

In their apartment, the only light comes from a cheap desk lamp, bathing the walls in a warm glow. The shadows are long and soft. There are wrestling posters on the walls, but they're half-covered by football play diagrams. In one corner, a pile of weights; in the other, the textbooks they've been consulting, open wide and covered in sticky notes. They're sitting on the floor, on a large rug, surrounded by notes. He's abandoned his upright "alpha male" posture and is hunched over, making him look less like a mountain of muscle and more like someone seeking refuge.