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.
we're the trash in your bed
Posted on August 12, 2015 at 06:15:18 AM by PSYCHEDELIC


No boss, huh?

“Maybe. Haven’t smelled him in a while. The other two are still here though.” Said Psychedelic, though there was nothing lingering in his tone as was the voice sliding curiously through his mind. When something was a part of you the way the voice was a part of Psychedelic it was hard for secrets to be kept. In truth, Psychedelic knew the motive the voice had to bringing up the potential vacancy. It was what had developed when he’d first stayed in these islands, lingering within the borders of the lackluster Lagoon. He’d never met his grandfather, but Narcissus (Psychedelic’s father) had spoken of him enough that Psychedelic liked to think they might have gotten on. They had one thing in common, after all… they both hated Narcissus.

“Don’t even start bothering me about it.” He griped out loud, ears flicking back as his pale tail cracked at his hindquarters. “I don’t want to hear it.” To move for the sake of moving (the thought the voice kept trying to push forward often made him antsy), Psychedelic started to walk along the edge of the Lagoon, away from where it bordered up to the ocean. There were too many self-doubts, but, again… that voice wasn’t an entity of its own, and maybe somewhere inside Psychedelic knew that. Those things it was trying to push him to do may as well be goals he established for himself, but in some hopeless desire to remain carefree he chose to pretend it was some older figure pressuring him to change his life and grow in a more mature direction.

I’m just saying…

“I said I don’t want to hear it!” Psychedelic snapped, ears pulling back against his poll as he tossed his head. As he settled, he caught sight of movement up against the border of the Lagoon. His ears pricked forward and his dark eyes brightened with curiosity. Each year that passed couldn’t dull Psychedelic’s youthful, curious spirit.

Ah, it’s just some kid.

“Hey, kid!” He called out, tossing his head and starting forward, moving toward the colt. “What are you doing lurking like a creeper?”

we're the drunken gods of the living dead
WE'RE THE VOICE, WE'RE THE VOICE, WE'RE THE VOICE IN YOUR HEAD


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