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 July 22, 2023 at 06:10:32 PM 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

“Getting too damn old for this,” Psychedelic muttered to the empty air around him.

The last fight with that gargantuan ass known as Tyr had really showed Psychedelic just how old he was getting. Since the fight and subsequent trade-off of a pretty little prize for two Lagoon boys, the boss had stuck to a small grove near the center of the territory and hadn’t left. It was higher ground and kept him out of the mud, which meant he could lay down in the shade and take the weight off his sore joints; it was deep enough into the Lagoon that he felt he wouldn’t be snuck up on by some other territory leader ready to kick his ass for something else the boys had done. Despite the bodily pain, he knew he should feel some bit of fulfillment. Even if it wasn’t the beast it’d been before, the Lagoon had become somewhat of a nuisance to the islands again, just like he’d hoped.

But, he didn’t. He was just tired and aching and sore. How many years did he have left? Did he even have years to go? If he kept having to fight that damn giant, he doubted it. If he kept losing fights he doubted the boys would keep him leading them for much longer. Psychedelic was surprised enough that he’d managed to get by this last election season still sitting in the boss seat. If the boys still trusted him enough to lead them, maybe it was time for Psychedelic to show them why they did. Maybe he needed to stop being an old, grumpy bump on a log who didn’t recruit or get into any hellraising himself.

Hellraising had been so much easier when his entire skeleton didn’t hate his body for existing.

Psychedelic grunted as he lay in the sun, then blew out a sigh. The warmth felt good, and since he wasn’t standing, his legs weren’t hurting. His bruised hip wasn’t happy, and it’d give him hell when he pulled himself back up, but the pain was an annoyance easy enough to ignore.

Peace at last…

Listen here you rat fuck!

A frown creased his brow and he blinked his eyes open, the sun stabbing into them and making him briefly blinded by the light. He blinked a few more times and slowly pulled his head up off the ground, half his face powdered by dirt, little bits of twigs and dead leaves and grass stuck in his pale hair.

Listen here you rat fuck!

Louder and unmistakable in who it was and who she was shouting for. Despite groaning as he pulled up to his feet, Psychedelic was still grinning as he started limping off in the direction of her shout. Only he would go willingly and excitedly to the demanding call of a woman who was just as likely (if not more so) to knock his head off as she was to cuddle up to him at night.

“Well, well, well,” He couldn’t help but murmur as he made it to where she was. His eyes raked across her body and noted her condition, but any worry he might’ve felt was snuffed away. “I figured you’d split for good,” he admitted. “You look…” his eyes roamed briefly over her body. Despite the wounds or the hollow dips (or maybe even because of them) he felt a tightened curl of appreciation in his gut. Something about seeing her all bruised up, knowing the other guy probably looked twenty times worse, did something for him. “Good.” He concluded with a grin curling across his lips.



PSYCHEDELiC
boss of the lagoon



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