It was early, the pale glow of the morning sun just barely peeking over the horizon when Diane pulled up in front of the postal office. She kicked down the bar on her bike (http://i1094.photobucket.com/albums/i444/reia-elliquiy/Character%20Profiles/Diane/bike.png) and sat back a bit, letting the engine purr beneath her. There was no saying what she'd find in her box, but she knew what –<br/><br/>With an annoyed grunt at herself, she cut the engine and quickly got off. She didn't remove her helmet (http://i1094.photobucket.com/albums/i444/reia-elliquiy/Character%20Profiles/Diane/helmet.png) – it was cold enough outside that the cumbersome thing kept her warm. When she reached the door she paused again, wanting to stretch the moment out as much as possible.<br/><br/>After enough time had passed that she felt reasonably ridiculous, she pulled out the key that would let her in and opened the door. Her box was towards the back, bottom row; she walked in and over to it, standing in front of it quietly before crouching down. The leather of her gloves squeaked lightly against the metal of the boxes when she used another key to open hers.<br/><br/>A crisp white envelope was sitting inside it, her name carefully printed in her brother's handwriting.<br/><br/>*<br/><br/>Her hands were shaking as she shut the door of the motel behind her. In her left hand was the envelope she'd retrieved from her box, crumpled and a bit wet from the rain. She leaned against the door, letting her helmet hit the wood with a soft thud, and just breathed. The sound of her own breathing echoing back in her hears calmed her down enough to where she knew her legs wouldn't buckle underneath her if she tried to walk.<br/><br/>Standing straight, she quickly unclipped her helmet and pulled it off, shaking her long red hair loose. There was a small dinette table to her right and she set the helmet down on top a pile of newspapers that she'd been looking through earlier. She'd dropped them and run out the door the moment she'd read the notice, barely even remembering to lock up.<br/><br/>She walked over to the single bed in the room and dropped down on the mattress, feeling all of a hundred years old. When she started to tear the envelope she realized that her hands were still trembling, her fingers icy cold inside the leather. She took a moment to take off the gloves, biting at the tip of the middle finger on each one to pull them off with her teeth. It was a bad habit that her father had always chastised her about and doing it now made her feel just a bit closer to him. She rubbed her hands together for a bit, warming them up to the point where she could actually feel her fingers.<br/><br/>Mustering up a bit more courage she finished tearing open the envelope and pulled out the letter - more of a note, really - inside. It was half a rumpled piece of notebook paper, Jason's go to choice for stationary for as long as she could remember. It was folded in half, the crease neat and tidy, straight as could be. When she finally opened it up, she couldn't help the giggle that came out at seeing the greeting her brother had used. It'd been years since he'd called her that.<br/><br/><div align="center">(http://i1094.photobucket.com/albums/i444/reia-elliquiy/Character%20Profiles/Diane/jasonnote_01.png)<br/><em><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 6pt;">hey dino,<br/>god, kiddo, hope you're taking care of yourself. wish we could work on this together, but you know --- especially with amy missing.<br/>got two leads, don't know what to make of them, but it's all we've got. gonna take one and you look into the other. be in touch.<br/>take care, baby sister. don't worry – we'll find her.<br/>-j<br/>k m w d r s v v i h w m i h e w m o t e q t b</span></em></div><br/><br/>Short and to the point, with a bit of big brother concern - though she wondered a bit at what he had intended to write and then scratched out. She expected nothing less from him and read it through once more before focusing on the letters at the bottom, staring at them in confusion. Cape Merrin? What the hell had Amy been doing there? Last they'd heard from her she'd been in South Florida. But if there was anything she trusted more than her own intuition, it was her brother's word.<br/><br/>She closed her eyes and counted backwards from fifty, a calming technique her father had taught her. When he'd been explaining it to them for the first time, Amy had asked what they should do if they needed to calm down and didn't have the time to count backwards that much. Their father had looked first at Amy and then at Jason and Diane, cracked a smile and said, "<em>Just cut out all the extra bits you don't need. This is especially fun when you're huntin' down a monster. Count 50, 49, 3, 2 and then shoot. It always helps me relax.</em>"<br/><br/>Opening her eyes again, she glanced at the old alarm clock on the night table, its fading red glow indicating that it was seven in the morning. Her sigh was tired when she let it out, allowing her muscles relax into the musty mattress before heaving herself up. She had an entire country to cross and no time to waste.<br/><br/>*<br/><br/>When Diane parked in front of the old bar and its faded sign reading<em>Simon’s Bull</em>, it was raining and she was entirely soaked. Her jacket at least kept her mostly dry, but she was still shivering a bit from the cold. She cut the engine, got off, and made a dash for the front door of the bar; once inside she walked up to the bar and sat down.<br/><br/>The barman eyed her for a moment before turning back to his current customer, a man in a hoodie and a thin beard. As she waited, she took her helmet off, pulled down on the light material of her full face mask (http://i1094.photobucket.com/albums/i444/reia-elliquiy/Character%20Profiles/Diane/diane_04.png), and set the helmet down on the stool next her. The mask was next, bundled up and stuff into her back pocket; she then shrugged out of her jacket (http://i1094.photobucket.com/albums/i444/reia-elliquiy/Character%20Profiles/Diane/jacket.png) and laid it neatly over her helmet.<br/><br/>She was just starting to shake her hair loose when the barman came back, a new look in his eyes as he checked her out. Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Diane gave him a charming smile and leaned forward on her forearms.<br/><br/>"What've you got that's good, sugar?" Her voice was low and sweet, thick as only girls from the South could achieve. She let her accent through – something that she'd learned long ago would draw men like bees to honey.<br/><br/>The man licked his lips non-too subtly and placed an elbow on the bar, clearly trying to get a glimpse down her slightly damp tank top. His voice was gruff when he spoke. "That all depends on what you want, pretty girl. I'm sure that such a lady such as yerself'd be liking something light and soothing?"<br/><br/>With a soft snort Diane pulled away from him and wrinkled her nose. "How about somethin' strong, I've had a long trip and am awfully tired." She was laying it on thick, but the man was obviously eating it up.<br/><br/>"Sure thing, doll. You wait right here and I'll get your drink for ya."<br/><br/>She stuck her tongue out at his back when he turned around and walked to the other end of the bar. "Fuckin' sleaze bag."<br/><br/>A moment later her drink was set down and she took it, ignoring the barman's beady eyes. She turned on her stool and leaned against the bar. There was a man she'd heard about, didn't have a name, but had been told he could be found here. Now she just had to figure out who he was.