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 stood at the bank of a river which tumbled and careened down toward the ocean, its uninterrupted gurgling filling ears which splayed and pointed in opposite directions. Still half asleep and with eyelids which felt too heavy to keep completely open, Psychedelic’s jaw stretched into a wide, cavernous yawn. He blinked and his tail flicked idly at his hind, stirring the cool early morning air. The smell of rain hung heavy and the ground was freckled in dew drops and the beginnings of rotting leaves. He rather liked the feel of autumn after a hot summer but the closer it crept to winter and the sooner it seemed to promise snow the less and less pleased he became.

Psychedelic lingered from where he’d awoken for another moment or two, simply coming to grips with the reality of waking up and being alive. It appeared he might have been pulled back into his slumber as his head drooped and his eyelids slowly closed again but with a sharp tug of his head and a hard inhale, he forced himself back awake.

In order to keep from lapsing into a sort of peace that would surely pull him back into a snooze, the stallion with his hue a mess of creams and faint browns and white began to move forward, intending to walk further into the belly of the Lagoon. His steps were slow and much akin to a pace like a meander, being in no particular hurry. At a patch or two of thick grass he’d stop and greedily snag a mouthful of the tender shoots before carrying on again.

Then he heard Kendry’s voice.

Psychedelic blinked his sleepy eyes and turned to head toward the direction of his brother but when he came across him, he stopped short. “What the hell did you find, Kendry? Another giant?” His groggy voice sounded almost grumpy, like a teenager who didn’t want to be awake. Psychedelic pointed his ears at the black stallion and was about to address him before his jaw caught itself in another massive yawn. He shook his head after, letting his mane fall haphazardly on either side of his neck. “Jesus you guys make me feel like I’m a kid or something.”

He shot his gaze toward the stranger. “Name’s Psychedelic, or Psych.”


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



ooc: an accurate representation of sleepy psych -> {click} LOL

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