Jackson Fletcher


Name: Jackson Fletcher

Nickname: Jack

Company Name, Business Name, High School Name: Jack used to own his own P.I. business, called Fletcher Investigations, but he's currently between jobs.

Are you related to Uncle Jerry? Yes, regrettably.

If so- what is your relation? Estranged son. Uncle Jerry isn't so much an uncle...

If not- how did you come across the invitation? N/A


Gender: Male

Age: 40

Hair: Brown, fairly short

Eyes: Blue

Distinguishing Marks: A scar on his right shoulder from a gun shot wound.

Description of General Appearance: Jack clocks in right at 6' and 175lbs, making him a fairly average man. Lean and fit, it's clear that he takes good care of himself. Though he tends to keep his hair and beard short, it has grown out a bit, as of late. While he is only in his forties, he's had a stressful life, which presents itself as premature grey hairs sprouting in his beard and hair. Regardless, he pulls the look off quite well.

These days, it's rare to see Jack in anything more than a thin sweater and a pair of jeans, but he fills out a suit or tux very well, on occasion. If he puts effort into cleaning up, shaving and choosing an outfit that suits him, it is clear that he would fit into the social aspect of the rich and famous easily enough. He has a pleasant smile and disarming demeanor that he uses to his advantage.


Personality: Jack is... rough around the edges. While he may look the part, it is clear that he wasn't raised to be prim and proper, as many of the Northhamptons were. He's quick to crack a joke or make a snarky remark, depending on his mood and the situation. Jack has a fairly dry and/or dark sense of humor, depending on how you choose to view it, but he's not the type to cater to anyone else for their praise- he doesn't tell jokes that he doesn't believe to be funny.

While Jack can certainly be tough to take in, when he's in one of his moods, he's a good guy, overall. He's the type to help his fellow man and ask questions later, or help an elderly woman carry her groceries across the street. Jack is nice, but he's not naive- he doesn't waste his time and niceties on those who aren't accepting or befitting of such things. There's a time and place for everything.

Strengths: Jack is fearless, to a fault, which made him a damn good P.I. when he was running his business. On top of that, he is witty, clever and outgoing. Quick with a joke, but quicker to observe those around him- with an eidetic memory, like Jack has, those observations are more than just a quick glance, forgotten moments later.

Weaknesses: Jack is fearless, to a fault, which puts him in danger more often than he'd like to admit, due to his reckless actions and disregard for his personal safety. Due to his past, Jack has a... bias, toward the Northhamptons, making him somewhat blind to reality and possibly giving the advantage in this game of puzzles, if they were to somehow distract him and throw him off his game. He sees them all in the same light as his father, and it's not flattering.

Fears: Leaving the world a worse place than it was when he arrived. Having done nothing in his life of merit. Being immortalized in infamy, rather than praise or fame. Becoming his father.


Education: Jack went to a public high school in Los Angeles, California, but dropped out of college when he couldn't decide on a major- he didn't have the money or the scholarship backing to keep going undecided. While he doesn't have an impressive formal education, he has learned many things on his own. He reads quite a bit, in his down time, and tries to keep up with society on all fronts but, of course, he is only one man.

Special Training: In his early thirties, Jack enrolled in a police academy and became an officer after his training, though it was only three years in before he decided there was too much red tape. His mother taught him how to shoot when he was a kid, and he's kept that skill honed ever since.

Talents/Skills: Investigation, Stealth, Marksmanship and he's a decent Boxer and Grappler when things get physical. While Jack does have a Concealed Carry License for the Glock in his glove compartment, he doesn't intend to use it.


Occupation/Position in Society: That's a loaded question. What is his occupation now? He's in between jobs, and his position in society is almost non-existent at this point (an ex-cop with a failed P.I. business and half of the credits needed for a bachelor's degree). In the past? Well, most recently he was a Private Investigator. But, since he was ten, he wanted to pitch in and help keep his mother afloat. He's worked all sorts of odd jobs throughout his life- anything from chopping wood and mowing lawns to bartending and even a bodyguard at one point. He knows a little about everything, a jack of all trades.


Jackson Fletcher was born to Jenna Fletcher in a dingy hospital in Los Angeles, California, where he lived for the first eighteen years of his life without knowing the name of his father- his mother had told him that his dad was dead. On his eighteenth birthday, she told him the truth, that Jerry was alive, and gave him the address and phone number of his father.

Unable to bring himself to contact his father, Jack sat on that information for ten years, in which he did a lot of drinking and hopping from job to job. At the age of 28, Jack picked up the pieces of his life and moved to Colorado, renting a trashy motel room no more then twenty miles from Jerry's estate.

Jack spent two years living out of that motel room, working odd jobs around town to get by, while he tried to convince himself to meet his father. One night, drunk as usual, Jack got in his car and drove to the estate, barely getting there in one piece. Almost out of the woods, but not quite, Jack pulled through the front gate just as someone else was leaving and had to veer out of the way, causing him to crash into one of his father's cars.

He woke up in a hospital, just to realize that Jerry hadn't been home. Realizing the last two years had all been a wasted effort, he packed up and moved back to California, though he settled in the mountains, rather than L.A.

After piecing his life back together, sobering up and forcing himself to forget about his father, he enrolled in the police academy, spending three years as an officer before quitting to start his own P.I. business, Fletcher Investigations.

Several years down the road Jack would find himself cleaning out his office, having lost the building to debt. As he turned to leave, he found the invitation from his deceased father, sent to him by his mother. The invitation was addressed to his mom, but she'd given it to him. She wanted him to see what his father had built.

Jack spent some time thinking it over but, ultimately, he knew he would follow the instructions on the invitation. His father hadn't offered him anything in life, maybe he could in death. Bitter, resentful and unaware that his mother had never told Jerry that they had a son, Jack planned for the trip.

What is your character's opinion of Uncle Jerry's Game? It's... intriguing, but childish. Why make your loved ones jump through hoops, rather than give them what you think they deserve? Unless they deserve nothing, then I suppose the game is necessary. Either way, it's fair game for anyone playing. Everyone has a chance to win. Even me, if I play smart.

What is your ultimate goal as you stand on the stairs of this mansion, waiting for Mr. Currier to say go? Take the money and put it to good use- likely donating most, if not all of it, to several of the charities that Jerry picked out. Either way, taking it away from the Northhamptons and using it for something good, will be worth every moment spent in this place.

Writing Sample

'Three, two, one,' Jack counted out in his mind before dashing around the corner and dropping to safety behind the concrete half-wall that separated the parking structure from the outside world. Flinching as he heard several shots ring out, echoing through the structure, Jack prepared for the worst. 'Three, two, one,' he counted out again, before leaning out and firing off a few shots of his own- one, two, three. The perp yelped and ducked behind a black SUV.

"Give up, Bennett. Turn yourself in," Jack shouted, ducking back behind his wall. "Make this easy, you don't have to die here," he finished with a bit of snark in his tone. He was confident in his ability to bring this one in, but it was going to be a fight.

"Fuck off, pig," Bennett shouted. "I'm not going back," he growled as a leaned around the corner and fired off four more shots, attempting to keep Jack pinned down- eleven, twelve, thirteen. "I'm not a cop," Jack snapped- he hated when he was referred to as such. "Might as well be," Bennett returned. "You're coming in, dead or alive. Better choose fast," Jack shot back with words rather than his firearm, a smile playing at the corner of his lips.

"Fuck you, PIG!" Bennett clenched his teeth and leaned around the corner, firing off two shots in quick succession -fourteen, fifteen- before there was nothing but silence and the sound of Bennett fumbling with an empty clip. Moving as if his life depended on it, Jack was over the half wall in seconds, sprinting toward Bennett. The perp fumbled with the empty clip, dropping it on the ground and reaching for another. Too slow. Jack tackled Bennett, knocking the gun out of the man's hand and sending it sliding a ways away. The perp scrambled, successfully shoving Jack off of him, and moving for his gun.

Jack jumped to his feet and grabbed a pair of cuffs out of his jacket pocket, before running for the perp and delivering a swift kick to the man's ribs. Bennett collapsed just as Jack clambered on top of him, cuffing one wrist and dragging it behind and cuffing the other. Leaning down, he spoke directly into Bennet's ear. "I'm not a cop," he growled.