Ashley had fallen asleep on her sofa, again. It'd become a habit ever since the incident outside her night club, and she'd genuinely forgotten what her apartment looked like before she'd potentially murdered someone. Comics, newspapers, print-outs, and books were scattered across the whole studio, and Ashley had read only a third of them completely. The latest items of interest for Ashley were newspapers, she'd made sure to get a newspaper every single day, and had read each one thoroughly until there was not a single word that she was not aware of. She was always hunting two words in big capital lettering, [i][b]nightclub[/b][/i] and [b][i]murder[/i][/b]. She never had a day where she wasn't waiting for a police officer to knock on her door, or her phone to ring from an unknown number. Honestly, it was surprising that she'd yet to receive or find any information regarding investigation into the murder and she wouldn't dare to try and communicate with any of her colleagues, in case somehow that dead man's body vanished from that alleyway before it could be found. Of course, that idea was impractical, but Ashley couldn't help these irrational thoughts that had flooded her mind for the days after the incident.

What came under the newspapers were books and comics, a mixture of fiction and non-fiction. Ever since a knife had put itself into its own user's back, Ashley couldn't help but feel responsible. Research didn't provide her with much revelation, though it did suggest that she attempt to recreate what had occurred. Another murder wasn't something Ashley was entirely comfortable with committing, if she was even the culprit, so instead she'd merely attempted to move a cup at one end of the bar to another end. For a few days, she spent hours staring at glass. Her perseverance finally paid off though, when suddenly the cup was shattered glass at the foot of the fridge instead of resting happily, preserved, on the counter. She searched the internet afterwards, desperate to find a specific name for what she was doing - but all she could really label it as was "Teleportation", which still sounded unusual, to say that she possessed the ability to teleport and also that that was what she could do. The day after she'd found this name for her "power", she attempted to teleport herself, as she could recollect that she did something similar that night also. It was quite successful, though she nearly ended up head butting a wall in the process.

Due to her investigations into the incident at the nightclub, and her newly discovered power she'd not spent much time socialising, or paying attention to the developing city that surrounded her abode. She was sure that a couple had moved in across the hall from her, though they'd never bumped into each other and Ashley was too on edge to really welcome them without looking suspicious. Therefore, Ashley had become her own personal superhero, exploiting her own power in privacy to benefit herself. Why walk to the fridge to get food when you can just suddenly be there? Why then walk back to the sofa with that food when you can just be sat back down in a matter of one movement? Her overexertion of her power did result in her feeling nauseous frequently, and so she'd started to take a lot of medication but she had decided her power left her susceptible to some variant of motion sickness. Her life had suddenly changed from a bartending socialite to a hermit, and strangely it hadn't phased her. She hadn't been bothered, no one had really tried to ring her, besides the conversations with her parents where she'd tried her best to sound calm and busy. But there had been no real interruption in her life, but this morning when she had woken up on the couch in her living room, it took her a few minutes to really process what had actually woken her up, and it was a very loud impatient banging on the door.