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welcome to we are deathless. we are located in fictional volstead, maine just off the upper northeastern corner of great lake matagamon. we are a supernatural site that focuses more on witches and the russian folklore we've adapted for our plot. if you feel like joining, please have a look around! - admin -

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 Wild Chicken Hunt, open | Oct 26
- MJ -
24 years old
- 37 posts -
Nov 3 2017, 04:13 AM
For days Mackenzie had been hearing rumours about monstrous foot prints out on the edge of the forest. There wasn't a whole lot of substance to the rumours as most of it had been bits and pieces she'd overheard from diners while working. It was enough to pique her curiosity though, not that it was hard to do so these days. That was what lead her to pack a small backpack of supplies and head out to the forest early on her next morning off.

She chained her bike to a tree near the start of one of the hiking paths and set off into the forest, determined to at least see for herself what all the fuss was about. Unfortunately the weather wasn't being all that helpful. With the combination of the daily storm clouds beginning to block out the sun and the ever present thick fog lying close to the ground, she wondered how anyone had even stumbled across these giant footprints anyway. Mackenzie wasn't one to give up easily though, so she trudged on along the muddy walking trail. It wasn't until fifteen minutes later that she figured out how people quite probably found the footprints.

Mackenzie's foot came down as she took her next step, only for her heel to hit empty air. "Shit!" she exclaimed, startling a few nearby birds. The off balance step had her stumbling backwards but she was saved from landing on her ass by colliding with a tree. Her hand shot out to grab a low hanging branch and provide some much needed stability as she got her feet under her. Lucky I wore my good hiking boots, she thought wryly, otherwise that would have been a twisted ankle for sure.

Wait a minute... Mackenzie narrowed her eyes at the odd depression in the ground. It was hard to see through the fog if you weren't looking for-- or tripping over-- it, but there it was. "Whoa," she breathed, fishing her phone out to take a photo of the massive food print pressed into the earth.
- Eliza -
45 years old
- 10 posts -
Nov 4 2017, 08:07 PM
wild chicken hunt, the exhaustion

On his rare and blissful day offs, which became increasingly rare, Karl liked nothing. Not a person to bother him, not some magic whatever going haywire and certainly not nosy citizens. Historically the twisting fabric of fate looked down upon him and scratch away anything that could resemble something good. So it was no surprise that there ain't’ no fish in the creek and gasps of the town Nancy Drew were being heard in the woods behind him. The man took a long sigh casting his fly line onto the dark surface of the rapid water as it crested against jagged rocks.

The lure sprang to life bouncing, just barely kissing the cool mountain stream, it’s bright green feathers looking like a sprite as the line was quickly reeled back to him. Fuck not a damn thing biting today. If it was that damn magic he’d be having a word with the Orlov. His memory sprang back to over a year ago when he accepted the position. A small town in the woods he had seen an escape from his world of sorrow and daily reminders. It would be slow, a place to relax and close his eyes, and at the very worst grandmas who ended up at the grocery store in their nightgowns. Since the thin summer heat he’d been knee deep in regular folks panicking over new found abilities, hordes of witch covens coming into town and his personal favorite, the dead coming back to life. Just the other day he had come out of another mind warping meeting about chicken cottages running rampant in the surrounding woods.

Insticitally his broad shoulders flinched as a flock of common chickadees fluttered across a gray sky. Fuck this town. He drew his gun quickly, taking the safety off before slinking into the trees formerly at his back. Steadying his fooding he backed up to a tree before directing himself to the source of the fright. There hanging from a tree branch as if it was a monkey bar, was the source of one of his many headaches. “Bird watching there Miss Reed?”

002 | Mackenzie Reid| tell me if i need to add anything
♔ nickdiazfan @shine
- MJ -
24 years old
- 37 posts -
Nov 5 2017, 12:24 AM
The voice of the new Sheriff was one Mackenzie had come to recognise very quickly. She had yet to be in actual trouble with the law but to her inconvenience, and probably the Sheriff's chagrin, she had been caught getting a little too nosey on more than one occasion. Regardless, his sudden appearance was enough to startle her into completely flubbing her photo.

"Sheriff Orel!" Mackenzie had to resist the urge to hide her phone behind her back, like a child who had been caught doing something they weren't supposed to. Taking photos in the forests was totally legal, and as far as she knew taking photos of giant bird footprints was also legal. She wasn't sure when her life had become a game of justifying her actions against the law. She supposed it was about the same time magic started going haywire.

Mackenzie let go of the branch, her feet firmly back under her now, and faced the Sheriff. "Bird watching, yeah, apparently," she said in response to his question. Then she caught sight of the gun still held in his hands. "Um, is that something I need to be worried about?"

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