[color=9e0039]CORRINE DOOLAK[/color] - The Hull

Twilight had set in while Corrine dawdled on the Hull.  She fidgeted for two reasons: one, out of nervousness; two, the joints in her fingers seemed to ache worse around sunset.  She was acutely aware of the pistol in her jacket, its weight foreign.  She wasn't even sure why she'd kept it all those years, considering she never used it, let alone knew a thing about what to do with it to take care of it and so forth.

She idly tapped her foot while she waited.  Corrine wondered what she should say to Steve when he arrived.  Should she apologize?  Explain herself?  Both?

Longfellow was right, but Steve was also right. She turned at the sound of footsteps to see the latter, himself. 

"I knew you'd come", Steve said with a sigh, looking around. "I promised I'd explain, so here goes. Back in the Capital Wasteland, I grew up in a settlement called Rivet City, as I told you. About ten years ago, before I left something happened....."

Corrine listened curiously as Steve recounted the story of someone called Harkness, and how easily the harbor could have one or more synths living among them with everyone unaware.  "And however you cut it, letting this killer roam free weakens this town..in fact, it already has. When the Cult comes we're going to need every last man, woman, or child who can handle a gun if we want to make it. Bishop could have helped...but he's dead. Rose needs our help....not only because it's the right thing to do, but because we need her as badly as she needs us." He then looked at Corrine hopefully. "What do you say?" 

Corrine swallowed, her throat dry.  "Look, I don't know anything about synths, other than a bunch of 'em went up to Acadia to live in peace.  But..."  She sighed.  "I agree.  Synth or person, we need folks to help stand up for our home, and if there's someone lurkin' about trying to take us out before we get that chance, then...you're right."

"What do we do, though?  It's not like I know anythin' about tracking a killer.  Longfellow's probably the best hunter in these parts and he made his opinion quite clear back at the Plank.  What's next?"

She shifted her weight and as she did so, was reminded of the gun in her pocket.  "Oh, right," she mumbled, as she fidgeted the pistol out into the open.  "You asked for a gun, well, here it is."  She smiled sheepishly.  "I don't know anything about how it works or what to do with it, though."