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 razor to the knife
Posted on November 3, 2023 at 05:12:14 AM by PEYOTE

HE'LL BE THE RISK IN THE KISS
might be the anger on your lips

A beast born in the swamp knows nothing but how to be what he has been since his existence began.

Peyote did not intentionally hide in the Lagoon, but his tendency to cover himself in the mineral-rich muck until it dried and cracked over his coat and linger within the inland shadows may as well have made it so.

He was not a very social creature. What silly, bold behavior he had as a foal had been all but snuffed out by the time he was a yearling. Tormenting his father was only fun when Psychedelic would actually engage in the antics. Once the old man stopped and would just let Peyote nip and kick at him, the excitement simply fizzled out. Too, the return of the one who’d given birth to him had been disappointingly brief. She has also been met by his hooves and teeth, and she’d given them in return, which had momentarily brought new excitement. When he had forced her to yield, he had felt triumph like no other. Yet all too soon she was gone, and once more he was without anything of intrigue.

Now there was new blood proclaiming themselves fit to lead the aimless, politicking to the empty stands. Did their echoing voice sound like support to their ears by the time it had bounced back? Peyote watched it all, but still he had not freed himself from the swamps.

Now there was shouting. Shouting was new, and interesting. It pulled the swamp beast out from his shadows at last, coat color all but gone beneath the dark mud that was firmly dried and cracked over his coat. There was no telling that he had any white to him, no telling any color to him at all. He simply looked like mud.

He walked forward quietly, blue eyes eerily bright among his dark, earthy mask as he watched the pair. His ears, pointed at them, caught the words that were spoken.

Play. Come to play.

Rather than speak, Peyote only stopped just short of their reach, and stared curiously at them both, waiting for them to say something else that might pull some sort of intrigue up from within his depths.

a lagoon thief
psychedelic x bane. smoky grullo overo (Ee aa nCr Dd nO ). 3 years.



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