The Lost Islands
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Lagoon

The Boss

Garmr

The Marauder

Peyote

The General

Marko

The Companions
None Druna None

The Thieves

Jormungandr
Khyber
Kristjan
Síhtríc
Tribulation

The Associates

Azizi
Atticus
Leukos
Lucifer
Salinger
Thranduil

The Soldiers

Kheldar
Vaingard
Rosto

The Trinkets

None

Boss's Decree

"For every brother you bring to our
midst, you may keep a trinket all to
yourself. She will not be sullied or traded, unless you deem otherwise. But should you bring a mare here without a new brother first, then I will consider her property of the Lagoon as a whole
and do with her as I see fit." - Garmr

The Offspring

None

Rules

• The Lagoon is where homeless stallions come to live as a brotherhood. Mares may not live here except as captives or companions for the Leaders.

• Soldiers keep mainly to fighting, Thieves keep mainly to raiding, and Associates may do both, neither, or act as diplomats. Members may issue their own battles and raids, but should generally consult the General, Marauder or Boss for permission.

• All major decisions are determined by vote, but the Boss maintains order within the Lagoon and has the final say.

• Elections for leadership positions will be held every TLI summer, provided the qualifying criteria are met.

• You can find detailed information about how the Lagoon works on the Rules page.

• Upon election, the Boss can issue a rule for members to follow during their tenure. It is up to leadership to enforce.
the drunken gods of the living dead
Posted on December 7, 2022 at 05:57:21 AM by PSYCHEDELiC



we're the voice, we're the voice
we're the voice in your head
we're the trash, we're the trash
we're the trash in your bed

Hard work, as it turned out, paid off.

Though Psychedelic suffered the aches of battle, the high of the success couldn’t be dulled. The Lagoon boss pushed through the ocean with powerful strikes, almost enjoying the dull pain in his muscles as he did so. It had been so foolish of him to allow himself to become what he had, and all it took was one conversation with a lean Salem stallion to realize it. The Lagoon was where he belonged and doing this - needling at the happy families of the island herds - was what he was destined to do.

It wasn’t his fault. It was in his blood. It was his legacy.

The bones and flesh of his grandfather had fed the trees that shaded the Lagoon. Hallucinogenic’s plague lived on across the islands even long, long after his death.

Psychedelic drew up the shoreline feeling ten years younger. The breath he drew in was deep and, as he sighed it out, a wide smile stretched triumphantly across his lips. Then he shook out his coat and finally turned to assess the young painted thing he’d bullied away from the Ridge. She was pretty, even objectively, and with those sad glossy eyes she’d make men fall in love who never thought they could. They’d do stupid things for her, if she knew how to use a man like that.

Something told him she was too young, too inexperienced, to truly understand her power.

He grunted, his quiet assessment of her complete, and opened his mouth to speak to her at last when- “YAH-HAH!!!” - a screech tore suddenly from the shadows of the nearby trees, splashing sounds and the struggle of pulling through mud the chaotic symphony to follow. Psychedelic whirled, the whites of his eyes flashing, and slicked his ears back tight against his skull, lowering his head as he glowered at what creature had jumped out of the clumped-together trees and mud at him.

Giggles erupted out of the black creature's mouth. Wait - not black - Psychedelic narrowed his eyes. It only looked black because it was covered in mud, every inch of its skin. Only around the eyes, where it’d been rubbed out, he could see a little white and those immediately familiar, wild blue eyes.

“Peyote!” Psychedelic snarled, his head snapping up as he stomped forward with both hooves disapprovingly, cream tail cracking agitatedly. His jaw snapped toward the colt (that’s what he was; a mud-coated colt just around ten or so months old) but he clamped on thin air as the wild colt erupted in giggles and whirled away. His tail flagged upright, despite the added weight of mud clumping it together.

A few yips came from the direction Peyote had jumped from. A young coyote pup jumped out merrily toward the commotion, trailing the colt’s giggles. Peyote kicked up his heels, splashing into the water, then flattening his ears and going after the pup. They played like this, the pup nipping at his legs and the colt kicking out, but purposely not making contact, soaking them both in the shallow water.

Psychedelic snorted, rolled his eyes, and looked for Rivka, wondering if his prize had bolted in fright and he was going to have to go track her down, or if she was still there and thoroughly weirded out by how her day was going.


PSYCHEDELiC
the lagoon boss



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