⸻ cobie smulder, 42, ciswoman, she/her ; ] … the photo on the missing poster is of ASHLEY DICKENS. they are FOURTY-TWO, and have been missing for 21 YEARS. when the sun rises, they work as A MORTICIAN. rumors in town say they can be AVOIDANT and FASTIDIOUS. they chose to live in TOWN, and have an uncanny resemblance to BIANCA PULLMAN (The Day of the Jackal), SHIRLEY CRAIN (The Haunting of Hill House), DEX PARIOS (Stumptown). can they survive another night ?…⸻ a blade of grass stuck between a cloth's stitching; reddened hands scrubbed clean of invisible dirt; a metal bed in a dimly-lit room with traces of blood still stuck on its surface an corners.
How did your muse spend their first night in Arcadia, and where?
She spent her first night at the common house after she was found wandering around the town by the hunters before sunset. Her introduction to the mysteries of Arcadia that night was quite straightforward— the distant echoes of pigs squealing and choking in their own blood after a stab to the neck. She had enough self-preservation to know not to test the town just yet, and she remained corralled inside until it was safe to go out again.
Why did your muse choose to live where they do?
Ashley previously lived in the common house when she was still finding her footing in Arcadia. Once she was given the task to clean up bodies, it only made sense to move to the apartment building as it was nearer to the clinic and lessened her travel time from home to work.
Has your muse left anything behind that they are desperately trying to return to or escape?
During that first year, she definitely tried to find her way out of Arcadia, knowing that a handsome inheritance was probably about to be stolen from right under her nose. The more she realized that there was no escape, not even multiple attempts at giving up her life, Ashley eventually relented the thought of ever getting back to her old life.
The attempts at ending her life, though, not just yet.
ash runs her fingers through her hair once, twice, and then a third time with a barely concealed click of the tongue when they catch yet another snag. there's always a snag — in her hair, in the clothes she wears, even in the wandering souls she stalks for fun — and it's almost irritating if not for her knowing that these snags are almost always easy to get rid of. the situation with her hair is probably (perhaps, most certainly) caused by blood or some other liquid she missed during her bath, which is still quite odd, considering the generous drowning attempt submerging in cold water from earlier.
or it can be the beer. great as she is with her hands, opening beer bottles is never her best feat, always making a mess with jerky movements and clumsy grips. the great ashley dickens, best butcher in town, defeated by a bottle with a vengeful, tight cap — the very reason why she keeps jude around.
the past year has found her sober — of beer, that is. other than the obvious fact that is a forever-dwindling supply of beer, her friend has found herself a... company, of sorts. it's the type of companionship that even someone as shameless as ash would refuse to subject herself to witness, never mind that it is also the type of companionship she once sort of had with said companion. complicated, messy, but shrugged off in favor of a smooth-sailing existence in an otherwise fucked up town.
"guess what i found, jude." ash's fingers curl tightly around two bottle necks as she approaches with languid steps, her other hand kept snuggly in her pocket. "beer— from, uh, 2006. can you believe that? magic, i tell you. starting to think people at the settlement have a ritual for new supplies or something." she stops beside jude and offers a bottle, leaning against the fence with a simper while digging her thumbnail under her index's, clicking sounds a constant where ash is found. "kinda weird seeing you out and about this time of the day. if you're here to prevent a repeat of last time, rest assured a certain someone's presence here over the past year has barred me from this place— your pigs were definitely happy for it."
the same words had been repeatedly ringing in ashley's head for maybe five minutes now as she stood a good distance away from her current source of entertainment in the middle of the woods. she was well on her way back from disposing yet another bag of treats for them when a strikingly familiar sound of something getting dragged through the ground caught her attention. now, ashley usually made it a habit of stalking people — she had no shame in that — especially those who were in the mood to act all silly and walk deep into the woods without company. most of the time, following them would prove to be a productive choice, and ashley would trek further and deeper in the woods with a fresh catch, another aid in making sure she wasn't getting sloppy with her butchering skills.
this one, though— ashley almost found it endearing how this one was clearly struggling to drag a dead body through the snow, yet it was clear that it was not letting the combination of dead weight and the elements stop it from hiding that body under a pile of snow. so, not one of those people, then. her thumb curled toward her index finger, nail digging under the other for dirt that wasn't there; something funny began to stir within her— a curiosity that was begging to be satisfied, and as a smile slowly began to push at her right cheek, ashley eventually arrived to a decision.
she pushed off the tree with a quick glance at her fingernails— clean, as they should be— before making her way over to the scene of the crime. with hands shoved inside the pockets of her jacket, the right one loosely wrapped around the boning knife she always kept in it, ashley announced her arrival with shameless, heavy strides. no point in sneaking up to whoever this was, not when there's no remorse in the way it moved about.
"that dinner?" her tone was light, casual, like she was referring to a fallen deer rather than her own likeness. "doesn't look prepped to me." her fingers wrapped a little tighter around the knife's handle, drawing closer to center stage, simpering and all. the catch was blonde with a pretty face gradually losing its warmth. what a shame. not. "there are better ways to keep that fresh longer. need help?"
