Jackson Haas

Age: Twenty-something
Pronouns: He/him
Species: Zombie
Previous Occupations: Unknown. Presumably con artist (pretty good), Saxophonist (pretty bad)
Current Occupations: Network actor (unpaid), library "assistant" (also unpaid)

A corpse that washed up on the shores of the Island and improbably gained a pulse.

Either Haas is a jazz musician-turn-conman who died in 1926 trying to do a D.B. Cooper, or he's a paid impersonator trying to boost ratings. Whatever the truth, Haas is a jackass with a bruised ego and something to prove - which is great for ratings. Less so for friendship. Get him away from the cameras, and maybe you'll have a chance at a normal conversation. Maybe.

Perceptive and possessing uncanny memorization skills, but lacks the reasoning required to make use of his own talents.

Back in the 1900's lived an idiot named Jackson Haas. A suave man, a charming man, a singer and saxophonist, and a man of many half-talents. Haas may not have been a particularly smart man, see, but he was perceptive. And more importantly - good with people. He knew how to butter them up, what words to say to make them think he was whatever they needed him to be, and how to pronounce long strings of syllables he'd copied out of a medical book to bluff answers to complicated questions.

Armed with whatever textbook he'd half-read on the tram ride that day, Haas was able to convince people he was many, many things. A doctor, an artist, a transatlantic pilot. Whatever was needed to be the star.

This faux-expertiese was an efficient way to get short-term gratification. Attention. Ladies. Money. Access to high security wings of certain medical ships. He was good at sounding smart. He certainly thought he was smart, at the time.

But as you might remember from before - Haas was an idiot. A dumbass, in fact. One who never could quite comprehend that people don't magically stop remembering you exist just because you climbed out their bathroom window with their wallet. One who certainly never thought that past marks might run into each other - and get talking.

Historians will never know for sure who ultimately did Haas in. Because unlike Haas, his killer was smart, and didn't do it for attention.

How exciting it must be for them for a body that looks exactly like him, to wash up here? On an island where death is a setback? How exciting it must be to have a chance to talk to such a weird historical footnote, and get answers that had been the subject of r/conspiracy debates for years and years.

…How very improbable.

But does that make it actually true?

Haas is currently employed as a stuntman for the island. He's already dead, so it's not uncommon for someone behind the cameras to point at a monster and go hey. buddy. go demonstrate how dangerous that thing's teeth are. He doesn't feel pain so it's not the worst gig in the world - but he does consider it beneath him.

He doesn't get paid for this, so he's picked up a second job as an assistant at the Inanimate Bookless Library. Or, well. It's more like he got dumped there because nobody else wanted him. He doesn't get paid for that either but at least he's got a place to not sleep.

If you're not in the business of getting into huge amounts of trouble in the jungle, and you're not interested in borrowing random junk from haunted buildings, you're not likely to bump into Haas. Unless you're unfortunate enough to be at the same party as him, or passing through an Outpost when he's “busking”.