Corrin Dysley

"What good are memories if all they bring you is pain?"


A crack-shot gunslinger with a forgotten past and an uncertain future.

Class: Ranger

Twin Shot: Though his memory may have vanished, his skills have not. Dead Hand Jack was well known for wielding two guns with great effectiveness. Because of this, Corrin adds Dual Wielding to his weapon proficiency list.

Theme: Lunatic Moon (Red XIII’s Theme) – Sixto Sounds, zircon


Corrin is a man on a mission, but he’s not quite sure what it is yet.

Able to adapt to new situations and locations easily, Corrin is something of a lone wanderer on the Miasmic Continent. He’s got a gruff demeanor and prefers to speak in short, terse sentences, but he’s helpful if he can be (to an extent, as he’ll prefer to save his own skin then get into a straight up fight for someone else). He’ll take odd jobs that pay well, but not for amassing the wealth so much as it ensures he always has enough to live on his own. His skillset makes him handy in many places.

He will point-blank refuse to answer any questions about his past (before six months ago), mostly because he doesn’t know much himself – and what he has figured out, he’s not much liked. He prefers to think of himself as a different man now, even going so far as to refer to that time of his life as another person entirely – “that man” and so on.


Six months ago, Corrin woke up in the middle of the wreckage of a shipping caravan with not a clue why he was there or who he was. On him at the time were some survival supplies, a handcrafted gun that felt right in his hands, and a few personal trinkets: a small brass key, a muted silver bell, an etched wooden case containing some flint and steel, and a ruby in the shape of a pyramid set on a small golden chain around his neck.

The small monster skirmish on the way back to the nearest settlement showed him that maybe he was far from helpless, as did the instinctual survival skills he displayed.

His first trip was to Dali. From there, he started to ask around for anyone who knew where he came from. No one knew, so he signed on as a caravan guard and traveled to Narshe.

There, his face garnered more recognition. No one was willing to tell him who he was. Everyone said that he was supposed to be dead, and when pressed for the name they knew him by, someone called him Dead Hand Jack, but no one knew anything more than that – that was the name he had given them ages ago.

He started to think that maybe figuring out who he was would not bode well for him, so he took the chance to create a new identity and a new life, though his background remained a curiosity – at least to him. What happened next changed his opinion of that.

After journeying to Cocoon on a whim, he soon found himself accosted by two large and burly men who politely asked that they come with him. He was escorted through the city into one of the large office buildings and lead right on up to one of the obnoxiously large board rooms, where he was brought before a single man in a bowler and dressed like a scoundrel. The men left. The scoundrel spun around, revealing a good left eye and a milky white right one.

The man’s face triggered something in Corrin’s brain, and a flood of lost memories swooped into place – a robbery on a bank, a shootout in a street fight, a bullet going through a man’s heart, the crack of thunder and a flash of lightning illuminating a single shadowy figure in a rainstorm, and most vividly, a tall, handsome man levelling a gun to Corrin’s head. Then a flash, then nothing.

The exchange that followed was short. The man was happy Corrin was here, but surprised. A bullet to the head is not an easy thing to survive. Corrin demanded to know what was going on. The man obliged.

Corrin, or Dead Hand Jack, was one of the most wanted criminals on the continent. Known to leave no one alive during his robberies and take with no care. The toughest, meanest son of a bitch to ever walk this earth, and here he was, begging for information.

Corrin asked why he should trust the man. The man said that he knew him better than anyone, didn’t he, partner? Now that he was back, they could get back to work again. He had plenty left to do. Lots to finish.

Corrin considered his offer for a moment.

A shot rang out. Corrin holstered his gun and left. No one made a move to stop him.

He’s since decidedly avoided trying to learn about his past, instead focusing on getting a better future.

Corrin Dysley

Final Fantasy Infinite ThreadOfFate