Character: Daniel Jackson
Series: Stargate SG-1
Character Age: Mid thirties
Job: Teacher of highly useless languages.


canon: Stargate SG-1 is a television show about a secret branch of the military called the Stargate Command. It's purpose? To explore the universe by traveling to other planets via the Stargate. Sadly, this exploration is hindered by an alien race called the Goa'uld who use humans as hosts and pretend to be gods, when all they've really got going for them is some stolen technology and scary glowing eyes.

Daniel Jackson is the guy who is paid to spend his weekends translating ancient junk written in dead languages and watch the History channel. Basically, he's a professional nerd. But don't let that fool you; he's also a really charismatic and loyal guy who loves meeting new people, be they aliens or fellow humans. Part of this stems from his thirst for knowledge- Daniel can't resist a chance to learn something new and exciting, even if it puts him at great risk. Quite snarky, Daniel brings out the sarcasm whenever he deems it appropriate, which is quite often. A man of many talents, Daniel is fluent in over 23 languages, a skilled archaeologist, and an accomplished midwife.


Hello, residents of planet P3X-442! I am Daniel Jackson, a peaceful explorer from the planet Earth. I have come here to learn about you and your culture. Looking at the sheer variety of peoples here, I have my work cut out for me. There are ninjas, ancient warriors, and I can't quite figure out what the rest of you are, but I'm really looking forward to finding out.

I'm also interested in learning about the local customs. Some rituals here seem to have some basis in Greek mythology, if what I've heard about the "animal disease" is true. I'd like to talk to anyone who can answer some questions I have. For instance, is this "disease" a symbol for this settlement's closeness with nature? How do you create such convincing costumes?

Actually, first I'd like an explanation on the local hiring policies. According to this note I just found stapled to my uniform, I'm apparently here to work as a counselor. Did anyone else get a letter? The one I have looks like this:

Dear Mr. Jackson:

Welcome to Camp Fuck U Die. Due to technical difficulties, you have arrived here instead of your desired destination of Obscure Planet #1,892. During your stay, please enjoy our complementary moogles health care services, "Goes Here" icons, and the occasional free porn. All we ask in return is that you teach the campers and your fellow counselors to all speak the same damn language. We could care less what you choose, as telling them to fuck off in Latin works just as well as it does in English.

-The Camp Director's bitch, the loudspeaker.

Okay, so apparently the head of this "camp" is a tyrannical and cruel leader who enjoys placing completely random people from assorted worlds into an enclosed place and watching the results. None of you worship this person as a god, do you? Because I feel we should have a talk if you do.

As long as I'm stuck here, I guess you can all address me as Mr. Jackson, but Daniel is fine too. So . . . who wants to learn ancient Babylonian?