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Captain Jack Harkness

"I'm Captain Jack Harkness. And you are?"

0 · 979 views · located in London

a character in “Superwholock: Games of the Moon”, as played by ThrillerNight




Name: Captain Jack Harkness
Age: 903
Gender: Male
Species: Human (but immortal)
Show of Origin: Doctor Who (before Torchwood)
Appearance: Jack Harkness is known across the universe for looking-good and have a great interest in keeping up his appearance. Standing at six feet tall, he has a lean, muscular body that comes from all the time he has spent doing physical exercise for his work- whatever it is at any point in history- and just generally wanting to be attractive. Jack keeps his short brown hair perfectly coiffed, which means generally styled in perfectly mussed spikes. His best features- not that all of them aren't fantastic- are his piercing blue eyes, perfect white smile, and defined jaw line.
More often than not Jack dresses in a particular fashion that he has acquired from working for the time agency- not any more however- and bouncing around history- mostly Earth's. This style he has acquired is most prominent in the grey-blue great coat he wears, which has lines of golden buttons down each front panel and reaches his mid-calf. Under this stylish jacket he tends to wear some form of blue button-down shirt over a white t-shirt paired with grey trousers cinched at the waist by a brown belt. Despite his fashionable coat and stylish demeanor, Jack's shoes are sensible brown boats chosen to keep up with the wear-and-tear he puts them through on a daily basis. This sensibile, ready-for-anything attitude is also reflected in the suspenders he often wears and the gun holster attached to his hip.
Personality: Captain Jack is your typical bad-boy, space-junkie, ex-Time agent... if there is such a thing. Out for a good time and a little adventure, the majority of Jack's long-long life is spent doing what-or who- will bring him the most entertainment. Although he was initially out to make money and to avoid being sent back to his lack-luster life in the fifty-first century, once Jack met the Doctor and Rose Tyler things began to change for him. Seeing how dedicated they were to helping people and being pulled into their adventures changed his view on what was most important; he still believes in having a good time and doing what is most entertaining for yourself- but now he finds himself inexplicably drawn to help protect humans and the Earth.
One key aspect of his flamboyant personality is his constantly flirtatious demeanor. Whither it be a man or a woman, a humanoid or some form of cephalopod- if it has a conscious personality and can respond to his advances, Jack will go after it. His patented pick-up line? "Hello, I'm Captain Jack Harkness. And you are?" Said in conjunction with his winning smile it rarely fails to score with whatever unfortunate creature he's picked up on his radar.
Motives: Although Jack claims to be in the city to check-up on supposed extra-terrestrial activities, it is highly probable that he chose to visit for no other reason than it pleased him to do so and that he wanted to visit with his traveling-buddy the Doctor once more.
Equipment: Captain Jack's main armament is a variety of guns- anything from a sonic blaster to a compact laser- and he always has one on him somewhere. He is also in possession of small, wristwatch-esque time vortex manipulator from his days as a Time Agent, that works on-and-off. As a man from the fifty-first century he also has advanced pheromones and hormones that make him irresistible, as well as serving to make him smell amazing.
There's also the little matter of him being immortal. Short of being completely and totally wasted into nothing but atoms, Jack can regenerate and come back to life the same as before.
Allies: Jack is capable of turning even those that should hate him into his best friends or -more often-lovers. This means his list of allies is incredibly long; however, his main friend in the whole universe is the Doctor... if you could call him a friend. 9 pineapple!
Enemies: Who could hate Jack? Alright... there are a few- namely those that lack sexual compunctions such as the Daleks and the Cybermen, as well as the Weeping Angels.

So begins...

Captain Jack Harkness's Story


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Captain Jack Harkness Character Portrait: Sherlock Holmes Character Portrait: Sam Winchester Character Portrait: The Doctor Character Portrait: Dean Winchester Character Portrait:
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Walking down the street, hands in his pockets and a broad smile on his face, the Doctor strolled along not looking for anything in particular. A woman wearing a bright pink, floral dress on the corner of the sidewalk caught his attention as he stopped at the crosswalk. "Oh that is lovely!" the Doctor exclaimed, leaning in to look at the matching pink broad-brimmed hat bedecked in plumes of multi-colored feathers perched upon her head. The lady took a step back from him, giving him a cursory glance and clutching her handbag to her chest. "Oh, hello," he smiled at her until she hurried away the minute the crossing light turned. "Oh- goodbye then!"

A bit later he noticed a cop car- signal lights blazing- rush down the street opposite him. "Ah trouble then! Yes!" The slender man exclaimed- startling a pigeon that had been strutting down the walk into flight- as he took off after the vehicle in a swirl of brown trench coat. The wailing sirens led him to a building already corded off and surrounded by a fleet of police vehicles. With no hesitation the Doctor slid under one of the yellow strands of tape and between a pair of uniformed officers, "Excuse me- yes that's right." The air exuded was so obviously one of belonging that noone thought to question the strange man in a suit and converse until he'd made it all the way up the stairs and into the flat from which officers were issuing.

Once he stepped into the crime scene- sniffing the air and beaming at everyone about- a woman in a suit held a hand up and hurried across to him, "Umm wait- hold it, and who are you? What are you doing here?"

"Who me?" the Doctor responded- looking around himself as if there was someone else she could possibly be talking to. When she continued to stare at him as if the answer was obvious he began to search the inside of his trench coat frantically, "Hold on- one second..." With a loud exclamation he withdrew a plain-looking black, leather bill-fold and flipped it open to reveal a plain piece of paper, "I'm the Doctor."

The woman looked at the paper skeptically, before turning her eyes back to his face, "You're a consulting detective? And here I thought Sherlock Holmes was the only one of those we had to deal with..."



The bustling streets of London seemed to part before Jack Harkness as he strode purposefully along the street, one hand shoved in the pocket of his great coat as the other held a what looked like a portable radio that clicked at seemingly random intervals. Paying little attention to what was going on around him, the man in the grey greatcoat shook the mechanism furiously before putting it up near his face, "Come on ya damn thing, work!" Unfortunately, Jack was occasionally beset by troubles with machinery- despite the proficiency and understanding he usually displayed when dealing with alien technology- and this seemed to be one of those times.

Stopping at an intersection to fiddle with the transmitter, the handsome man addressed it again, "Come on now! You were working earlier! He's got to be around here somewhere- just locate the alien technology, that's all you have to do!" A heavy sigh escaped him as his shoulders fell and leaned up against the grey-stone wall of the nearest establishment. Suddenly a pair of exceedingly tall strangers right in his line of view caught his attention. Despite the predicament he found himself in, Jack couldn't help but slide his gaze up and down the two attractive men that were obviously tourists. "Oh well, what could a short distraction hurt?" he thought to himself as he stuck the machine into the large pocket of his jacket and headed their direction.

Once he was within a foot of the two leather be-decked boys when he heard them speaking and realized they were American- which caused his smile to broaden. Lucky for him, he sounded American in his own way; flicking his hair out of his eyes he stepped up to them. "Hello boys, need a little help?" Catching the eyes of the pretty, shorter man he offered him his trademark smile and said, "Hello I'm Captain Jack Harkness. And you are?"


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Captain Jack Harkness Character Portrait: Sam Winchester Character Portrait: Dean Winchester Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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Sam Winchester

Dean insisted on stopping at a shop before reaching the hotel. For once, it seemed he wanted to be cultured, something that the younger brother of the pair just couldn't ignore. Same watched closely as his brother entered the knick knack place, green eyes filled with a strange excitement. The man behind the counter bristled his gray mustache at the pair, eyebrows pulled together like caterpillars over beetle black eyes. It mattered little though. Sam knew they were American and were acting...American. Especially Dean. He was almost too American.

And what he brought back to the door with him, grin giddy and bright, only emphasized this.

Sam's eyebrows shot up. "Postcards."

"Postcards." Dean's toothy grin was nearly infectious, but Sam managed to shake his head amid a small chuckle.

"For our multitude of friends back home," he remarked, noting the stack of at least ten separate rectangles in his brother's hands.

Dean frowned slightly, but shook it off as he lightly punched Sam's arm. "Shut up."

With those purchased, satisfying Dean's child-like spasm of curiosity, Sam insisted they go into the hotel and rest a bit before gallivanting off. The only reason Dean finally agreed, eyes busy with soaking in the sights, was because he started yawning like a lazy cat. "Okay, okay," he decided, stuffing the postcards in the interior of his leather jacket. "But then food because..."

"Hello boys, need a little help?"

Both brothers skidded.

Before them, a grinning chap (chap being the first word to pop into Sam's mind) stood with a slightly puffed chest and a confident aura that Sam recognized. He couldn't quite put his finger on it straightaway, not until the man's eyes switched to Dean. "Hello I'm Captain Jack Harkness. And you are?"

Sam stifled a snort, grinning madly. Dean sent him a glance, obviously not catching anything. He offered his hand with a smile. "Dean Winchester," he replied. "And...what are you the Captain of...exactly?"

Sam had wondered the same thing, but didn't ask, far too interested to see how long it would take his slow brother to realize that he was being hit on. "I'm Sam," he introduced, offering his hand as well, grin grateful to this strange man to exact this small revenge on his shorter brother.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Greg Lestrade Character Portrait: Captain Jack Harkness Character Portrait: Sam Winchester Character Portrait: The Doctor Character Portrait: Dean Winchester Character Portrait:
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Dean Winchester

Catching on wasn't something he did quickly, sometimes not at all, but this "Captain" Jack character flashed a smile, eyebrows wiggling just right and Dean recognized the signs. He did the same thing. To girls.

"Whoa, whoa," he said, backing up a step with hands up. "We're not...I mean...Why does everyone think we're gay?!" he exclaimed to his brother, shoving his arm as if it was his fault. It probably was. With that long hair and stupid puppy dog expression, he could swing for either team it seemed. Dean's eyes closed with frustration before facing Jack again. "Look...Thanks for the uh..." he wasn't sure what to say "...interest? But..."

That's when he noticed the cop cars over Jack's broad shoulder.

"Is he okay?" he questioned, pointing. An officer with some lanky, crazy haired culprit had been taking out his handcuffs, when he suddenly collapsed. Dean's previous discomfort with Jack vanished as he stuffed the postcards in his jacket. Something wasn't right. Perhaps it was only a heart attack that caused the mess, but Dean needed a reason to step away from the "Captain" as soon as possible.

"'Cuse us," he said with false politeness and dragged Sam into the street.

"What'd you see?" his taller brother asked, already in gear as well. He glanced over, seeing Sam graze his thumb over the handle of his dagger beneath his jacket.

"Cop collapsed," Dean explained.

"So?" Sam stopped in step when they reached the opposite sidewalk. "Not exactly our deal..."

"Could be," Dean simply replied, sending a look back over to Jack. A wary look.

Sam laughed. "Nervous butterflies?"

"Shut it."

With that, they started over to the police cars, watching as different officers started heading in to help their collapsed comrade. The man who was about to be cuffed, lay on top of him as the officer mumbled something that Dean couldn't hear or read on his trembling lips.

"What do you think?" Dean asked.

Sam was still grinning, hands going to his pockets, fully relaxed. "I think Captain Jack likes you."

"Would you stop it?"

The taller brother could only laugh.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: John Watson Character Portrait: Greg Lestrade Character Portrait: Captain Jack Harkness Character Portrait: Sherlock Holmes Character Portrait: The Doctor Character Portrait:
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John huffed out a very unamused breath and shook his head. "No, Sherlock, we are not doing any of that 'hound' business again, alright?" That had been an absolute nightmare back at Baskerville and he wasn't too keen on redoing any of it. Sherlock's irritation was even similar to that night at the inn. God, he was livid. Was he doubting himself again? John stood awkwardly in the middle of the trashed bedroom with blood on his trousers and the side of his cheek, unsure of what to do. "Look," he finally managed, "whatever you decide to do I'll be right behind you, yeah? You don't have to take this case, they can't make you, but if you want to I won't disappear..." With a sigh the doctor walked back out into the main room. "Maybe a wolf escaped from the zoo or something?"



The sweat on Greg's forehead began to bead and run as the pain down his spine multiplied. The device in his face would've been batted away if the D.I. were able to control himself. The light, the sound, they hurt his eyes and ears as he became more sensitive. Tense and in agony, he did his best not to make a scene. Granted, the trespasser was doing that well enough on his own. Then another man came cracking jokes and smiling. He didn't have time for this. Giving the cuffs in his hand a short, weak jerk he turned desperate eyes to the odd man lying to his side. "I-I have a cella... a cellar... off of Hack-Hackney-y... Got to get there..." The shadows lengthened even more, increasing the D.I.'s anxiety and fear. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if he hurt anyone, wouldn't ever live down leaving bodies like the one in the flat behind him.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Captain Jack Harkness Character Portrait: Sam Winchester Character Portrait: The Doctor Character Portrait: Dean Winchester Character Portrait: Amy Pond Character Portrait:
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#, as written by Iezobel
She scanned the crowed of people for the doctor. Was he even here? A woman approached her.
"Who are you, what are you doing here?" The woman asked.
Amy didn't bother to answer her question instead she asked another."Have any weird people came through here?"
" yes, but why should I tell you?" The woman asked.
Damn this woman was stubborn. "I'm the strange man's... Assistant" she had hesitated before saying assistant. That was probably the best thing to say.
After the woman had pointed out where the man was she strolled towards that area.
As she got there there was no sign of the doctor. Just strange men. Maybe one of them knew him. The doctor did get around a lot.
She walked over. "Hello" she said casually,"do any of you know a weird man called the doctor."
She didn't bother being polite she would have liked to find the doctor as soon as possible."


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Greg Lestrade Character Portrait: Captain Jack Harkness Character Portrait: Sam Winchester Character Portrait: The Doctor Character Portrait: Dean Winchester Character Portrait: Amy Pond
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Leaning down to hear the strained protestations of the man lying below him, the Doctor nodded seriously to the instructions he was given. Of course he wasn't entirely sure where this 'Hackney' place was nor what exactly one would do in a 'cellar' especially if one were turning into a werewolf, certainly the werewolf-man had to be at least a little reliable on the matter of his own well-being. Just as he was in the process of responding- his mouth even open to begin the statement- a great group of people spontaneously appeared around him, led by none-other than his acquaintance the ineffable Jack Harkness. Jaw snapping shut at the ridiculous banter directed toward him by the Captain, the Doctor turned his gaze to take in the growing group of individuals.

"This man says he needs to get to this 'cellar'," the man supplied in answer to the shorter of the two men that had followed his friend from somewhere, not bothering to acknowledge Jack or even introduce himself as he was in currently preoccupied with overcoming the crisis of the moment. Before he could inquire as to whither or not any of the three new arrivals had any knowledge of where this 'Hackney' was, another human strolled into their midst. This time it was a fiery-haired woman, who demanded-with a short greeting-in a no-nonsense tone, "Hello, do any of you know a weird man called the Doctor?"

Had he been in any other mood he would have immediately jumped on this new development- how did this woman know him? Had he met her before, and if he had- how did he not remember such stunningly, brilliant hair? And didn't she know not to call people weird no matter how amazingly different they were?- but as it was, there was a man lying on the ground clutching at his hand (well, really his handcuffs) and begging for help. So, the Doctor replied with a quick, broad-smile and a waving hand, "Yes, yoo-hooo. That would be me. The Doctor here. But all that can be sorted out later, yea? Now this man needs help. A cellar on Hackney he says. Which one of you can get us there, hmm?" His dark eyes darted between the lot of them as he began to help the man as quickly as possible to his feet. "Tick-tock, tick-tock," he intoned with a sarcastic air.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Captain Jack Harkness Character Portrait: The Doctor Character Portrait: The Master Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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And then I stood there, in the basement of Broadfell prison, dripping with the mist of some ancient concoction my followers had dug up from the graves of libraries long forgotten. Thunder cracked in the background as the blue mists whirled about the room, the constant drum beat returning even louder than before. Looking over, I could see my lovely wife, kneeling on the floor with a guard's gun close by her head. Smiling widely, I outstretched my arms. "Lucy my faithful wife!" She stood up, revealing a vile of liquid, the potion of death she called it. "No!" But the sound of a gun shot rang through the air, and the vial dropped from Lucy's hand, rolling harmlessly towards the entrance. She jerked back, clutching her now bleeding hand as she stared at me almost hatefully. For an instant I stared back at her, a sad look on my face and total disappointment with her actions. Once again, she'd tried to kill me, and the first time she had succeeded too! Then I grinned at her as the transformation completed, leaving me once again alive, completely whole, and with the body of a Timelord. Guards rushed the room from an exit in the basement, their guns leveled at Lucy who looked at them with fear in her eyes. Looking at the remaining followers and their drones of my "faithful" cult, I rolled my head slightly, cracking the fresh neck muscles.

"Take her back to her cell," I said, ice in my voice and no remorse. "And someone, get me some clothes."


The Master stood in front of the mirror of the bathroom, his hand feeling his smooth recently shaved jaw, as he examined his appearance. His thin wavy brown, almost blonde hair, was freshly trimmed from yesterday's barber visit, neatly combed forward over the top of his head. His black suit was neatly pressed and ironed, with neither his shirt or jacket showing the slightest wrinkle. His brown eyes stared back at himself, and the corners of his mouth twitched into a playful smirk as he regarded his appearance. His hands rested against the white marble countertop as he leaned forward, his face inches away from the mirror.

"One of the most brilliant minds in the universe, with some of the most devious schemes to ever be created. What are you doing, attending a meeting in the Senate, discussing a vote on a power bill?"

He stared at himself, as if waiting for his reflection to give an answer, before a knock sounded at the door.

"Senator Sertam, you have ten minutes."

His eyes rolled up as he pushed himself off the counter. He hated being called Senator. It was like being downgraded. He had been the Prime Minister of Great Britain after all. Couldn't his followers have found a position higher up that didn't have to deal with these petty matters and laws? He turned his head side to side, listening to the resounding crack of his neck with a faint smile. At least he only had to do this sort of thing once a week, maybe twice. Unless there was something his staff hadn't told him, all he had to do was vote yes or vote no, while sitting in the shadows, and let the other senators do the talk on various insignificant matters while time passed around them and alien species went to war among the stars.

"Coming!" he hollered in a high boyish voice before growling slightly as he turned away from the mirror and headed out the door.


The Master swung in his chair slightly as the droning voice of a male human echoed through the senate room. He suppressed the urge to yawn as he looked around the room, watching other men and women instead of the current speaker. He tuned out the noise of what the bill would do for the government and its people, while staring towards a woman. He recognized her from before in the Senate building during his short time as Prime Minister. Her gaze turned away from the speaker to focus on him, soft emeralds locking with his own deep brown eyes. He flashed a deceivingly warm smile at her before she turned her head, and he chuckled slightly to himself as he looked back at the speaker. She didn't remember him. So passionate, so evil, so quick to judge, the human race could be, and yet so forgetful. The events of Harold Saxon, going mad onboard the Valiant and assassinating the president, would be nothing more than a distant memory, buried on page 29 of the London Informer. Of course a simple signal from the Archangel network before it was modified helped speed up the process.

A sudden beeping woke him from his thoughts, as well as alerting the senator beside him. His hand snapped to his side, withdrawing a small cellular phone.

"I told you not to call me, I'm in the middle of a meeting," he said in a quiet voice laced with annoyance. He shot an annoyed look to the man seated beside him, who turned his head back towards the speaker, this time a female. But the Master knew he would be listening in. He gave a sigh as he leaned back in his chair, the small device pressed close to his ear.

"Oh come on Mister Sertam," the voice on the other end responded, using his fake name. "You aren't even interested in those boring meetings anyway."

"No I'm not," the Master said with a playful grin. "So what have you got for me?"

"You remember those strange reports of corpses Scotland Yard has been tracking, with no clue as to their killer?"

"Yes, what about them?"

"They've found another and are sending police to investigate. Corner of Henderson and Fifth."

"Mmm..." the Master pressed his body even further back into the leather recliner. "You know those reports are fascinating. It would be nice to see one up close..."

"I hear they're even calling in one of their best consulting detectives. That's how desperate Scotland Yard is."

"You know what, the senate doesn't need me today anyway," the Master said as he leaned forward, his brown eyes focusing once again on the senator beside him who had turned his head slightly in his direction. "Send the details to my terminal, I'll be there shortly."

He clicked the red button on his phone before sliding it back into his pocket. He leaned back in his chair, his fingertips pressed against eachother as he stared towards the Deputy Minister, already calling the Senate to a vote. His lips pursed as they tapped against eachother rhythmically to the sound of his heart beats, to the sound of the drums. The drums of war, tuning out the droning and the ayes and the nos and the hand raising, his gaze becoming focused and crazed as his fingers tapped harder and harder. Then he uttered a "Yes", answering the call of the drums and the senate's needless voting. And in one fluid motion he was out of his chair and out the door, leaving the one man in slight confusion and the rest completely ignorant.


The sound of screeching wheels filled the air as a black van stopped a short distance from Henderson and Fifth. Car doors swung open as five pairs of black shoes stepped out onto the damp pavement of the street, shutting in the Timelord's heart beat's rhythm. The Master stood beside the van, dressed in his black suit and black overcoat, taking a deep whiff of the cold London air.

"Ah, the stink, the smell of pollution and iron," the Master said as he turned his head from side to side, looking over the empty streets. The fresh tire tracks could be seen leading up to the apartment, where several police cars were parked in a line, yellow tape cordoning off the area. Humans could be seen bustling about the cars and going into the apartment. He took another deep inhale as he looked towards the apartment.

"Maybe even the smell of rain," the Master said as he shrugged, his lips twitching upward. "And something el-" he stopped short as he stared towards the cars. His face fell as he stared towards the group of people. They were all clustered around one person, brown fabric showing through the cracks. He stood still, waiting for the humans to move, waiting to see who the hidden man was. And yet as the drums beat harder, the Master felt he already knew.

Run! Hide! It's not time yet! The Doctor can't see me yet! I'm not ready! One look, one look is all it took for a Timelord to recognize another. They knew eachother on sight, on feel, on smell. Of course which one? The Master's lips twitched upward again into a smirk. As Minister of Defense he had had the Doctor closely watched, but never interfering until the time was right, until he had use of the Doctor's TARDIS to free him from the end of the universe. No he knew when, and that meant the Doctor's TARDIS was somewhere close by. He looked over to one of the members of his group.

"Take the car, drive about the nearby streets. There's an old style police box somewhere, probably in plain sight. Find it," the Master said, almost hissing his last words as he turned back to the building. He shot one last look back to the crowd of people, to that immortal fool Captain Jack, to the Doctor, before he turned away. He walked towards the apartment, going by way of a side street to arrive at the other side of the apartment, out of the Doctor's sight.