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


“Woooahh buddy.” Psychedelic said as he jerked his head back, chin down, his own ears twisting back in response to the stranger’s initial reaction. As soon as it seemed he wasn’t in immediate threat of getting into a bit of a fight, Psychedelic’s ears turned forward and he blinked as he eyed the buckskin with slight wariness. Psychedelic wasn’t new to a fight and for as careless as he sometimes appeared, he would never back down from a challenge. If someone was going to give him reason to, he had little reason to not kick back. Boss or not.

“Well,” he said with an air of bemusement, “since the last boss we had seemed to have a stick up his ass too, I’m venturing to say you’re the new boss in town.” He knew he was walking on thin ice and that the stallion before him was like a snake that seemed to be looking for the slightest reason to strike, but Psychedelic couldn’t help himself. He was freaking tired of feeling belittled by stallions who opted to bully their way into leadership.

Not that this was how the new boss had come to be. Psychedelic didn’t know him at all but, needless to say, they weren’t really making that great of an impression on each other.

“Are you always this charming?”

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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