Lagoon |
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The BossGarmr |
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The MarauderPeyote |
The GeneralMarko |
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The Companions |
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| None | Druna | None |
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The ThievesJormungandrKhyber Kristjan Síhtríc Tribulation |
The AssociatesAziziAtticus Leukos Lucifer Salinger Thranduil |
The SoldiersKheldarVaingard Rosto |
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The TrinketsNone |
Boss's Decree"For every brother you bring to ourmidst, 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 OffspringNone |
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. |
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Posted on October 22, 2015 at 08:23:40 PM by PSYCHEDELIC
Rodrigo. That was it. Psychedelic bobbed his head after the bay stallion spoke, correctly guessing his name as well. It didn’t bother him that his name was known; Psychedelic didn’t exactly stick to lurking in shadows as others might. Anywhere life stirred in the Lagoon, the dun, white splattered stallion seemed to find his way there. Even elsewhere on the islands (Atlantis, for instance), Psychedelic sometimes found himself traveling. Thinking of Atlantis was a mistake, immediately Psychedelic felt even bitterer toward the cold bite of winter sinking into his coat. He chose, instead, to focus on his present company. Rodrigo. Psychedelic’s ears pushed forward and he blinked, watching him for a while. It occurred to him that he didn’t know anything about this stallion other than his name. He didn’t know what kind of character he was or what his goals or aspirations were. Normally Psychedelic would just laugh that stuff off, he didn’t really care much to get involved in the decisions and life paths other horses chose. But… well, he was here and Rodrigo was here, and Psychedelic would give anything to stop thinking about this damnable winter. “So,” he started, which was a good way to start, he thought. “What’s up?” His head tilted just slightly, ear flicking back once when he heard the wind stir the trees and then forward again, attention returned to Rodrigo. Ah, yes, you’re truly an accomplished conversationalist. The dry humor in the voices tone made Psychedelic want to roll his eyes badly, but he refrained no matter how difficult it was. The last time he’d been in mid-conversation with another horse and he’d rolled his eyes at a comment the voice made he’d earned a nice, quick bite. Psychedelic was already miserable enough in the cold, he didn’t need to add a sore neck to the equation. WE'RE THE VOICE, WE'RE THE VOICE, WE'RE THE VOICE IN YOUR HEAD |
Replies:
- In my scabbard was a Peacerose. - By R O D R I G O October 28, 2015 at 01:07:41 PM
- we're the trash in your bed - By PSYCHEDELIC December 2, 2015 at 07:43:36 PM