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


Psychedelic’s ears flicked as the loud, demanding bellow rang across the currently quiet Lagoon.

Ooo, sounds like el jefe is beckoning his minions.

“Hmmm.” Psychedelic tilted his head, creamy white tail (tangled, the edges stained brown with mud) flicking at his hind as he turned about to amble off in the direction where Felony had called from.

Wonder what he wants…

“Whatever it is, I’m just happy to hear some life here.” Grunted Psychedelic. “Thought the winter froze everyone or something. Maybe they’re all thawing out.” Shortly after he spoke, Psychedelic giggled. “Maybe that’s why it didn’t stink as bad… everyone was frozen. It’s going to smell rank.”

Shut up. The boss had made a note he wanted to see you, so it’d be best if you didn’t approach him acting like a lunatic or calling him stinky.

“Hey man, the truth hurts. I’m including myself in that, I’m pretty sure I smell pretty rank too.” Still, Psychedelic knew the voice had a point. He’d been wondering curiously what Felony could want with him. He’d nearly had a moment to attempt to ‘prove’ himself in battle but that had fallen through. In the past, Psychedelic wouldn’t have given two fucks when it came to proving himself. But, lately, things were changing. The middle-aged stallion had decided this was to be his home, concretely. He would no longer leave for the mainlands. The Lagoon had him now until he fell and his body fed back into the earth the same way his grandfather’s did. It had taken him some time to come to the conclusion but, eventually, he had.

Psychedelic’s ears flicked forward as he caught sight of the duo-toned stallion standing in wait. “I hate being early to the party,” he grunted once he was close enough, casting a gaze at the quiet around them, “makes things kind of awkward while you wait for everyone else to come. What do we talk about? The weather? Gossip? We can’t talk about anything too important because otherwise we’ll have to repeat it once the late birds flock in.”

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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