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 white trash circus
Posted on August 15, 2014 at 06:17:26 PM by PSYCHEDELIC

WE'RE THE DRUNKEN GODS OF THE LIVING DEAD
we're the voice, we're the voice, we're the voice in your head



Curiously, Psychedelic turns his head ever so slightly. His eyes do not waver from the young stallion that had approached him as he studies him. There’s nothing outwardly aggressive about his appearance, nothing domineering as if he meant to charge and sent Psychedelic on his way. The Lagoon could not refuse any stallion that came past its borders and asked for residency yet life could be made miserable for those they did not like. The voice, his companion since birth, figured the latter would happen to Psychedelic just as it had happened to his father. Psychedelic’s ears flicked toward the black stallion when he spoke and already words were ready to tumble out of his mouth, excited to have a companion to converse with.

Shhh!

The voice reprimanded him. Psychedelic blinked and swallowed back whatever it was he’d been about to say.

Remember. I told you to let me handle this. Your excitable, silly antics aren’t welcome here. Just say yes.

His ears flicked as though he’d been listening to someone else, as if there was another standing with him. “Yes.” He said before nodding once or twice slowly as his eyes narrowed with concentration. “Yes. I am in fact.” His ears flicked again. “How was that?” He whispered, ears twitching.

SHHH! He can’t know about me.

Psychedelic’s eyes widened and his heartbeat increased, panicked at the agitation laced in the voice. “Why not?”

SHHH! I SAID NOT TO LET HIM KNOW ABOUT ME! Shit. Great, just great. Just, ask his name. I don’t know, babble. Distract him. Don’t talk to me.

“Uh so what’s your name?!” Psychedelic practically yelped, tail cracking at his hindquarters and a nervous, lop-sided smile on his mouth. “Are you new? I just came here. I’ve never been here before. My father lived here. My granddad lived here.” Each statement came out fast, whatever he could say to practically berate the other stallion with so many things that he couldn’t focus on the potential slip-up. It wasn’t a solid plan but still, it was all the young stallion had.


we're the trash, we're the trash
WE'RE THE TRASH IN YOUR BED


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