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    1. Moonlit Sonata 10 yrs ago

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Current The dazzling Sonata makes her return~!
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The Goblin Matron looked out over the crowd of newborns as they awoke for the first time.

In spite of her having lived for a grand three generations of Goblins, this sight was not something she had experienced. After being birthed, this group of Goblins had remained asleep for three full days, a sleep the Matron could not rouse them from despite her best efforts, before all waking up abruptly within seconds of one another. Accordingly, they were waking up for the first time in bodies that were just a hair's breadth away from being fully grown. This is only natural. When compared to the civilization built by humans, who grew up without worry of being attacked by a foreign enemy, goblins, since the moment of their birth, must deal with the fierce struggle for survival. Humans could afford to grow more slowly than the Goblins living in the wilds, where the law of the jungle requires their offspring grow faster. Of course, the Matron had been sure to help feed them while they were in the depths of sleep so that they wouldn't starve, though it had been difficult to do so without causing them to choke to death. In truth, there had actually been a tenth Goblin present, but he had choked to death while she tried to feed him, so his corpse had been carried out two days prior. Necessary experience, and whatnot.

As the newborns gained some bearing of their surroundings, they would notice that they were in the middle of a cave, a natural cave with a few traces of sunlight from the midday world outside filtering in. Those poor, tragic figures who saw anything else must have been hallucinating. Poor souls.

While the Matron had some worry, this was wiped away after seeing some of the newborns successfully speak. It appeared that their genetic memories had been retained; they were still properly born with the knowledge of "how to be a Goblin".

-This worry, however, returned to her in full force when she observed one Goblin scream whilst rolling on the floor to exit the cave, and another scream while running into a wall.

...Well, every generation had one or two who weren't quite right in the head.

Still though, the Matron was concerned. After all, all mature Goblins save for her were sent out the day prior to hunt, as was par for the course due to food supplies having run low, but none of them had returned since then. Only the Matron, who had been attending to the newborns, had stayed behind. With the state of the tribe's food supply and the unknown location of the entire adult population, the situation was troubling, troubling indeed. The Matron herself had been in similar situations a handful of times given her depth of experience, but it was that very experience that allowed her to know that the situation at hand could be disastrous if mishandled.

A thin walking stick, poorly carved out of low-quality wood, was abruptly thrown at Gunka's head before he had reached the cave exit. Despite her enfeebled state caused by age, both the accuracy and force of the stick were commendable, certainly enough to stop a newborn who hadn't even tested the limits of his body yet. Now resting herself against a wall of the cave for support, the Matron at last spoke.

"...children, rise. I will be told each of your names, and following this, you will hunt."

Considering the fact that these children had just awoken for the first time, one would assume this to be a tall order for them to fill. However, as per the law of the World, this would seem to be a natural statement to the newborns. Born with the knowledge of their names, born with the knowledge of what they were, born with the knowledge of language, of survival, of what it meant to "hunt", everything the Matron had said would make perfect sense. The only situation under which it would not would be if the sudden influx of knowledge and stimuli was too much for a newborn to bear. There were occasionally some of those; the system of genetic memory was, after all, not a perfect one. Perhaps the screaming pair were of that make.

Well, one thing they would not know is what exactly there were expected to hunt, but they could figure that out for themselves.
@moonlit sonata

hey boss im wondering how our day system is going to be. Is everyone going to post once then you skip to the next day or what?


I'll occasionally post with regards to the time of day, every few hours IC or so.

Also, I'm holding off on posting with the Goblin elder until everyone's made their first post, if anyone was wondering.
It was just referring to the transformed state, like Tatsuacchi said.
Get to posting, you nerds.
April 14th, 20XX

Hishikawa Emi
High School Auditorium, Center Stage


On this day, the entirety of the first-year class of a certain high school had been gathered in the school auditorium. Those present demonstrated a varied mix of emotions: an invested sort of firmness, a coffee-induced bright-eyedness, a decisive boredom, a closed-eye look in sharp protest of the normati-...wait, no, that guy's just sleeping.

8:29:58

8:29:59

8:30:00


The instant that the clock struck 8:30, a figure stepped out onto the auditorium stage. Donning the utterly illogical uniform that served as a sign of one's magical aptitude, the depth by which one has surpassed humanity, she appeared. And it was in that same instant...

-The captive audience of first-years erupted in a raucous cacophony.

"Emi-samaaaaa!"

"I'm overflowing!"

"We love you, Hishikawa-sama!"

"Be my onee-chan!"

"Step on my face and call me a dog!"


A light tap on the microphone by the girl who stood on stage silenced the crowd immediately. Smiling serenely, the student council president looked out over the gathered students.

"Good morning, everyone. It's wonderful to see all of you here today; I thank you all for being able to make it." She stated airily.

"I, Hishikawa Emi, am proud to stand here before you as your student council president. For those of you who are wondering why you have been called here, it is for the purpose of the school's promotion of a cooperation program with the middle school. As of late, our district's middle school has run into some trouble with the sheer amount of new clubs being made. Put simply, we don't have enough faculty on-hand to keep up with the demands."

"As such, the high school has agreed to open up the option for high school students to volunteer as sponsors for middle school clubs, if they so desire. A list of clubs that need sponsors is on the bulletin board outside of the guidance office, so please consider volunteering your time!"

After a brief intersperse of murmuring among the students, Emi continued on, her expression becoming somewhat grim.

"Now, I am sorry to say that there is also an issue I would like to address. Even though we have only recently begun the school year, reports have already trickled in of various wrongdoing groups cropping up in our school district. I wish for you to know that this sort of blatant disregard for school regulations will not be tolerated, regardless of who chooses to exercise them. The groups responsible have generally been spearheaded by those with high magical aptitude."

"If you are approached by such a group, do not allow yourself to be intimidated and fall in with them. I, as student council president, will work tirelessly to keep the peace of the school, and prevent undue harm from coming to our student populace."

And so, the door opened on a new era of cooperation between the high school and the middle school.

Oh, yes.

Cooperation.
Almost forgot to ask. Our characters already know their names, right?


Yep.

Who knows how? It's a mysteryyyyyy

:O
So, what human-age should we behave as? Toddlers? Teenagers? Early twenties?

Grumpy old men?


You don't know anything about the world, but you have enough innate information that you can skip the "shitting yourself and crying for food" stage. Maturity itself is up to you, though a cynical war-vet type of demeanor wouldn't exactly make sense for someone whose yet to experience reality.
Mhm. As stated previously, you have innate knowledge of the Goblin language, and instinctual matters. You're not squishy humans who need a couple of decades to hit maturity. Or maybe that's just how this world works. Who knows?
Now then, let's begin.
A soul cannot understand something beyond it, something outside it. As a human is a human, it will never be able to come to the same level of understanding something Other unless it becomes that Other. Only by reaching infinitely closer for an extrinsic thing can Man have the right to a full evaluation of it.

As a result, Man cannot understand death.

There is a reason for this. To understand death is to trap yourself in a desolate era, to confront the weakness and hesitance of the world itself. Even the earth and sky would seem ready to shatter at the slightest provocation, the world standing firm as a mere illusion that could shatter with the slightest push. Men cannot understand death, for if they do, their souls will falter under its all-consuming gaze.

-And that is precisely why these souls are stripped of their "everything".

Standing in a formless void, It receives them with open arms. As they have experienced death, they can now understand death, so action must be taken. Its hands move, distorting the flow of the void with enough strength to invalidate the very concept of a world. Regardless of what Man believes, It does not carry the same standards of thought as Man; It is something Other, and as such, Man will never be able to understand It. As such, Man will never be able to understand the reason for what It chose to do next.

The void is pierced by searing light, burning away that which the souls have acquired, and returning them back to their first precept.

However, before the process is finished, It stops the light. The souls remain, perfectly cleansed save for a single point upon each of them, a single thing retained.

Man will never be able to understand why It chose to act. They can assign words to feelings codified by Man, and attempt to apply them. Curiosity, boredom, idleness, expectation, they can apply these ideals to It all they want, but that is foolishness at its finest.

Regardless, we have wasted enough time here.

And so It sent them on their way.



A flowing darkness surrounds all. A pure darkness unlike any other, impenetrable by anything that is or could be. There was no light, no sound, no motion. There was only that transcendent black, endlessly expanding in all directions. And yet...rather than disturbing, this eerie ocean of black was calming. Like the feeling a child has when closing its eyes to sleep, like the fading world at the end of a play. The darkness is embraced with open arms and hearts, taken in like air and water as the warmth it brings is recognized.

Light pierces the dark. A lance stabbed upwards from the Kingdom Below, the light pervades this space of tranquil knowledge. The darkness is burned away, twisted and perverted by the all-consuming light. Fear strikes, as just moments after embracing the blackness, it is forcibly torn away. The warmth is replaced by a burning pain. Born from the interplay of shadow and light, figures take form, but they cannot possibly be acknowledged. No, the only site of importance is this light, this damnable light that takes away everything.

The light cools. The scars left from its searing pain throb in the recesses of existence as their cause recedes. The light returns, but this time it does not crush the darkness; this time it merely illuminates what was present. Eyes cracking open for the first time. Formless figures who steadily take shape as the light is adjusted to, beings that aren't recognized but still feel familiar.

A single word takes form in the mind, not spoken in a language but in something more primal, something that appeals to the deepest part of existence.

"Goblin."

And before the crowd of these now-awakening bodies stands a lone figure, looking out over them, watching them with a tired eye.

Come now, we've wasted enough time already. No sense in wasting any more.

Wake up.
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