The Lost Islands
CLICK FOR IMAGE CREDITS


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 10, 2016 at 05:09:00 PM by PSYCHEDELIC


Psychedelic grinned at her scathing remark before making an expression of mock hurt. “That digs real deep, babe.” He said before jerking his muzzle back the way he came. “Food’s this way; come on.” Without waiting to see whether or not she’d follow, the painted stallion turned about and began walking away from the sinking black muck and toward firmer ground. For a while he said nothing, allowing the silence to permeate the air as it met with any waves of rage she still might have left to throw at him.

Some stallions might have found themselves perturbed to be treated with any glimmer of disrespect but, for now, Psychedelic was amused. Time would tell if his mood shifted and even he couldn’t be certain whether it would or wouldn’t. At the moment he was pleased to have gotten a rise out of her and even further pleased to think of how foolish her band stallion felt to have lost her.

They moved into the shrubs and trees where the ground was firmer (further from the ocean) and vegetation was capable of growing. He’d been here just moments before he’d gone off to find her and he walked through the grass, feeling the point of its blades tickle against his coat. Psychedelic moved until he was on the opposite side of the clearing from whence they’d entered and turned about before stopping and regarding her with a curious eye.

“You know, for being the color of sunshine you sure don’t have a very cheery disposition.” He still wore a little smile like a kid who knew he was saying something idiotic just to further irritate the masses.


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


Replies:

Post a reply:
Name:
Email:
Subject:
Message:
Link Name:
Link URL:
Image URL:
Password To Edit Post:






<-- -->