The Unreality of Being Forgotten

Hello fellow readers and writers!

So, two weeks ago I took the plunge and self-published with Amazon. Now, for now it's just in ebook form available on kindle and Amazon ebooks. but I'll order physical copies soon! Very soon, I want them out for Pride month, given that my book is an LGBTQ+ isekai fantasy novel!

I'll put the first couple of chapters below as a sample. But please, check it out! I look forward to reading reviews!

All my love,

Demeter-Valencia Lopez

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"To Whom It May Concern,

I've blamed you for so long

Cursed your existence in mine

I placed the burden of me upon you

Even as I've let go, it still resides in me

The pain and fear, the desolation

What's become of me since then

The ever present darkness I ignore

I'd once laid at your faults

For what was done, what wasn't

But now I think of my role

In this Lifetime™ drama life

Was it me all along?

I'd let myself become isolated

Let myself get used and discarded

There's something broken in me

That feels so disconnected from

From everything

As if I don't belong

Anywhere at all

Everywhere I go, I'm outside

With anyone at all, I'm no one

As if I'm a window to look through

Catching a reflection or two

But still depthless and overlooked

Easily forgotten

And the image is often the only focus

Food for the eyes, and nothing else

Another fault I've wrought

For putting it on display so much

Not asking enough for a deeper inspection

So I'm writing you to apologise

For making me your problem

For putting it all on you blindly

When my decisions led me here

From the cradle to the grave

As they say…

I'm sorry,

No Longer Your Concern."

Chapter 0 - Restlessness Consumes Fading Memories

Roni had written with the express desire to disappear. Unironically, and completely on purpose, Roni had been listening to 'How To Disappear Completely' by Radiohead, a band whose music would be a go to for them when having caught The Mood™.

"They fuel my creativity while simultaneously allowing me to feel my feelings and raw dog reality." They had said, usually, about the subject.

Often, Roni's letters aren't taken seriously or confused for their poems as Roni writes poems frequently and their letters are always written in the structure of poetry. One could see where the confusion comes from. Unfortunately for their family, though, Roni was incredibly serious this time, and would, in fact, disappear.

A fact no one would come to notice… at all.

On the third day of the tenth month in the seventh year of the second millennium, Roni ceased to exist.

"I never wanted to just die, you know. I feel like, as much of a burden as my life is, my death would be worse. And then someone would have to find me and see my lifeless corpse. That's traumatic! I'd rather have just not existed at all. Just like, bloop! Gone." Roni explained, "That way, no one would have to deal with my disposal and no one would fakely cry over me and my 'lost potential' that they never believed in anyway and say shit like, 'oh, heaven gained another angel; RIP Roni. Gone too soon.' boo-hoo bullshit."

Roni had found a way to live between planes; the place of The Forgotten. They'd caught glimpses of this unreality before, while in dissociative fugue states. You see, along with depression and anxiety, their trauma came with a kind of psychosis that, in extreme distress, would come on and cause breaks in their reality. In these breaks, Roni could see, well, here.

Here, in case you're wondering, is The Plane of The Forgotten, as I've said. A place reserved for those who can see it, for those who need it, and for those who just don't fit in with reality.

Nosey, aren't we? Want to know what it looks like, and all that, yes? Well, think of the wildest, weirdest, you-est place you can think of. Did you do it? Right, not even close. Because, as it turns out, humans aren't able to truly tap into their truest selves; stripped of all of societal expectations and cultural norms and whatnot. At least, what's called the normal human can't.

Sad really, the few that can see the unreality of this place are usually driven mad or to a deep depression and try desperately to replicate what they see and feel here for the world to experience. Artists, whom we all know, sing, write, paint, and even make movies of what they think they saw and felt but none comes close. Although, the product of these endeavours are usually brilliant and held up to the highest forms of what art should be.

Whether a gift or a curse, those that make it here, while they don't necessarily die, their art, their essence is forgotten.

Now you know why it's called The Plane of The Forgotten.

Brilliant as they are, like Roni, they end up here where no one outside can experience their brilliance. But if you ask Roni, they would tell you,

"It's worth it. The pressure and the dream of making it big just doesn't exist here."

Roni isn't alone either. In fact, everyone that's made it to The Plane of The Forgotten has felt exactly how Roni felt in the reality and they're all still here, and will remain here for, well, forever.

Here, Roni can find what they've most felt lacking: community.

Though… Not all is as it seems in this unreality. As Roni will soon find out.

The magenta shaded sky above--or is it fuchsia?--quickly is enveloped in cotton candy shaped azure clouds spreading wide and far and visibly swelling. Roni looks up and cocks their head at a precise 67° angle--I measured it, of course. Oh, don't look at me that way; fine, I eyeballed it.--inquisitively and expectantly and says something to the effect of,

"Here comes the rain again, by the Eurythmics." and smiles softly.

Is it 'The' Eurythmics, or just Eurythmics?

Semantic pedantry aside, it did indeed begin to rain; geometric droplets that change colour depending on the level of altitude and perception. Their splashes on the spongy black grass happen in 8-bit rendering. And this splash on the black blades below create a sort of bioluminescent colour effect on the grass that brings it to life, illuminating whatever path one sets their mind to.

Roni, absolutely pleased with the aesthetic of it all, starts off with a skip and trods ahead to nowhere in particular. Each step highlighted briefly in hues of the ultraviolet spectrum before fading into nothingness. So, quite literally, there's no going back.

Determined only to see what's before them, Roni pays no mind to the disintegrating path behind. Think of it like one of those forward-moving stages in MegaMan, where the camera pans ahead ever so slowly and does not retreat, no matter what you left back there.

You see, another aspect of The Plane of The Forgotten is that it only forms in forward motion. Your world 'exists' in your immediate surroundings and only there, making it impossible to see too far ahead as well as what had immediately happened before. That is until you reach The Stranding.

You'll just have to wait and see what that is. It's not as insidious as it sounds, I promise.

Ahead of them, on the horizon through some trees that politely moved out of the way so that Roni could see, The Stranding--a town that changes with every addition to The Plane of The Forgotten and is a creative amalgam of every mind that inhabits it--can be seen, complete with floating text over it that reads: THE STRANDING.

Roni smirks, "Well that's a little ominous. But I'm into it." and continues on.

"You must be new here!" A voice calls from the rather large mediaeval style gate that closes off the town from the nothingness around it. Of course, there's a tall wall around town that the gate connects to, but just in case you thought it was a standalone gate connected to nothing at all that anyone can just walk around to get into The Stranding, I thought I'd mention the wall.

And yes, it matches the mediaeval theme.

Roni looks around trying to find where it came from, not noticing the tetrahedron-shaped hole in the gate with a round, sweet-looking face inexplicably spinning at a 37° axis that calls out again, "psst, over here! Yeah! Hi!"

"Oh, shi--hi! I'm--yeah, what gave it away besides the fact that I came through, uhh…" Roni looks behind them, "the void there?"

"That's fair." The cinnamon roll face states before beckoning, "Come on in! You'll love it here. We have anything you can imagine."

Which, of course, is true. This is, in fact, a creative's paradise. Not without caveats though, but we'll get to that. Roni walks up to the floating geometrically imprisoned dumpling and leans forward, inspecting it for a while.

"Do you have a body? And do all of you just let strangers into your," they look up, "'The Stranding'?" The lovely sphere face starts to answer just to get cut off again by Roni, "and why is it called that anyway? It's a little off putting."

After a pause, gauging whether Roni will interrupt again, the sweet bao responds, "It's behind the door, silly. And yes. Anyone here is here because of the same reasons--give or take--which means we all can relate to each other and aren't really strangers. For long at least. And it's not what it sounds like."

I told you. Now stop worrying so much.

Worry an appropriate amount.

Inside the walls, a charming modernised Gothic village--and by modernised, I mean it had the aesthetic of a Gothic steampunk village, but the technological advances of the 21st century--with slick cobblestone roads and any shoppe you can think of within walking distance of the centre and, one would imagine, anyone's home, 'gas' light lamp posts, a giant fountain in the centre with a sculpture that is different for everyone--which is often a big conversation piece--and a leisure park over there--Yes, just over there. Go ahead, take a look. Oh, just use your imagination, would you?--is being toured by Roni, whomst is led by,

"Kia."

"What, like the car?" Roni presses.

"The what?"

"Nevermind. Anyway," Roni non sequiturs, "here's Wonderwall."

Kia purses her full, oval lips and cocks her head, "You're funny."

"Thanks, I try. But only on Thursdays." Roni quips.

"Is it Thursday? I don't remember. Honestly I don't even know what year it is." Kia adds.

They continue on, trodding through the lovely town cast in a perpetual twilight.

"Edward would like it here. I think they all would. I mean, it's not like there's any sun." Roni thinks out loud to themself.

"Oh, like from the movies?" Kia inquires.

"Movies? Like plural? I never got to see the first one, it's coming out next year." Roni retorts.

Keep in mind, this plane exists outside of time and space and in Roni's time, it's 2007.

"We are talking about Twilight, right?" Kia asks with an investigative tone.

"Yeah, so far there's two books with one coming out this summer." Roni replies suspiciously.

Kia stops and turns to Roni, looking them over and examining their clothes. Roni is wearing an AFI Decemberunderground tee with fishnets underneath, seven different bracelets of metal and PU leather, one with spikes, a spiked choker, Tripp pants that are black with white stitching to match the AFI tee, Demonia boots and heavy black eyeliner and lipstick. Their hair is coiffed over one eye and quite fried by a flattening iron, choppy-cut and voluminous.

"O-Em-Gee!" Kia exclaims, "you're so totally retro!"

A statement that both annoyed and confused Roni. What did she mean by retro? Roni thought, and when is she from?

Roni's eyes became sharp and narrow with noted frustration, and they pursed their thick, cupid's bow lips tightly. Kia, having noticed this reaction quickly grew concerned.

"I mean, no offence. I just mean, I don't think I was born yet in your time. I only know 'Twilight' from the memes that brought it back to popularity like two years ago." Kia explained hastily, "The Twilight Renaissance!"

"Twilight Renaissance? Memes?" Now Roni was even more confused.

"Yeah, memes. You know, like your Wonderwall reference? That's a meme. It was all over the internet a few years back. After 'Rick-rolling'." Kia chuckled.

In 2007, memes weren't really in the zeitgeist yet. In fact, they were just emerging, without the title. Having remembered this little slice of trivia, Kia took it upon herself to explain what memes are to Roni on the way to the block of flats that had just appeared atop a new coffee and energy drink café that had Roni's name all over it.

"Oh! Yeah, no, I totally get it. It's like the NewGrounds stuff, and like Salad Fingers; The End of the World--" Roni stops.

"Yeah, like those, I guess. Anyway, here's home." Kia presents Roni with their new flat.

"Whoa…"

"Yass, Keanu, you're breathtaking!" Kia couldn't help herself.

Roni glares at her, "That hurts me in ways."

Kia shrugs apologetically, "Sorry, I just love him. And it's a thing he said. In case you were wondering."

"I wasn't. But this is where--what if I don't want to stay?" Roni probed cautiously.

Kia responded with, "Then it just vanishes and no one would remember it existed. At least, I think. I don't remember if it's ever happened before."

It has.

"Huh," Roni thought out loud, getting lost in their gaze that is transfixed upon the dark stone edifice, "I guess I can check it out."

Without missing a single beat, Kia exploded with, "GREAT!! I'll show you in!"

Chapter 1 - Gaze Into Her Killing Jar

To Kia, the loft-style flat was a blank slate with a bed and some furniture. To Roni, this same loft had everything they'd ever wanted in a home. From posters of what looked like their favourite bands--My Chemical Romance, AFI, Radiohead, The Offspring, Slipknot, Cradle of Filth, Linkin Park, and so on--, to dark velvet curtains draped dramatically over the large, entire-wall-spanning window, a king-sized canopy bed with satin sheets in magenta and black with lovely swirly embroidery on the top floor, to a fully stocked kitchen with the best cast iron pots and pans, old-timey toaster and a gas stove with a grill. It had it all. The stereo system had speakers everywhere and two subwoofers. It even had a studio booth for recording music with everything one might need for just that.

"Holy diver. This place is amazing." Roni gasps in awe.

"I bet! I can't see. I mean, not unless you let me." Kia says, with a sing-songy inflection right at the end.

Roni turns and looks at her, "What? I mean, how? Do I?"

Kia grabs Roni's hands excitedly, "I'm so glad you asked, omaigawd. So, what you do is…" Kia takes Roni's left hand in hers and entwines their fingers, she then pulls out a red thread, "take this strand at the opposite side and wrap it around my hand and I'll do the same."

Roni blushes, wide eyed and staring into Kia's face.

"What's wrong?" Kia asks.

"N-nothing, I--so I wrap it around your hand? And you wrap it around mine?"

"Yes!"

"Isn't that a little awkward, like, to execute?" Roni asks, unsure of how to coordinate.

"For most people. But if there's a strong connection, The Stranding will be seamless." Kia reassures.

"A strong connection?" Roni stutters a bit, nervously, "We just met, how could you know we have that."

"I don't, silly," Kia replies, "I just wanted to let you know, in case it is seamless, we do have a natural strong connection. If not, then we can work on it, okay?"

Roni nods.

"Besides, I like you. So I'm hoping we do." Kia adds.

Roni blushes again, and Kia giggles.

They start The Stranding, eyes locked on each other, and like two serpents elegantly dancing their hands move fluidly, wrapping the thread around each other's hands at either end.

"I knew it!" Kia squeaked.

Roni is stunned, holding on to some thread that was left over, "What do I do with this?"

Kia holds her piece and instructs, "move your pinky so that it's standing straight up against mine," she pauses, "like that. Now we tie either end around them."

Roni does just as Kia instructs, and just like that Kia's eyes become like glistening saucers beholding the Gothic-punk wonder that is Roni's loft.

"Your place is so fire!" Kia squeaks again, "Oh-Em-GEE! Look at all of this stuff! And a recording studio!? Are you kidding me!? You are so bomb, Roni!"

Roni smiles softly, loving Kia's reactions as well as her soft, caramel tinted palm against theirs.

The red thread dissipates and frees them, but they hold on for just a few seconds longer before letting go and exploring the loft some more.

Kia, a lovely, dark olive skinned Caribbean islander with thick, curly green hair in a long bob with eyebrow length bangs that lay evenly across her forehead right above her black, angled eyebrows, with her sweet, round, but structured face housing big down-turned, puppy dog, hazel-green eyes, a small, round-tipped nose with perfectly circular nostrils that are visible even from front-view and whose sills are perfectly aligned with the columellar base at the centre of the septum, and a straight, drawn down ridge, those heavy oval lips set above a dimpled chin. Speaking of dimples, she has those too when she smiles, like perfect little crannies.

As Roni watches her admire all that their imagination can conjure, they admire Kia's everything. A woman built strong and small, with shoulders a bit broad, a waist that tapers in but quickly curves out ever enough to form the top curve, then slightly in again and out again, bowing at the thighs. The technical term is hip dips, but I was having fun describing how Roni's eyes raced down Kia's sides like Dom Toretto and Brian at the end of Fast and Furious 6. Roni's eyes glimpsed the robust rump that is Kia's backside, blushed and looked away as Kia turned to face them and walked toward them. Roni tried to keep their eyes from fixing on Kia's smaller bust and smooth, exposed belly that curves out in a cute 'pooch'--what Kia calls it--, instead, their eyes shut tight and open suddenly to Kia's face just a few inches from theirs.

"What? Do I have a stain?" Kia inquires innocently.

Roni struggles to speak, flustered and stammering, "N-no. Uh, no. You just--I didn't notice before."

"Notice what?" Kia probes, poking Roni's round-tipped nose.

"You, honestly." Roni confesses, "All of you."

"Oh! You mean," Kia motions to her body, "yeah. It's hard to avoid, tee-bee-aych. But I-dee-kay, I don't mind you noticing."

Roni sighs in relief, "Oh, okay. I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable or anything. I know how that can be."

"Tee-hee, you're cute. And sweet." Kia giggles, "you don't have to worry. Like I said, I like you."

Roni would have to change their name to 'Tom A. Tow' with how red they've been this entire time. They scratch their head and breathe deeply, exhaling, "Ah, so. Um, maybe it's because when we did the strand-thing--"

"--The Stranding."

"The Stranding, sorry."

"It's okay, go on." Kia encourages.

"When we did… that… it went like, seamless? So, I guess we have a natural strong connection?" Roni's voice reached heights in inflection more unnatural than anything the Dark Side of the Force had access to.

Kia chuckles lightly, "Maybe, baby." Kia stops, "Oh, shi--sorry, is that okay?"

Roni raspberries, "Psh-yeah, no it's cool. It's, uh, cool. I--I like? It?" That inflection again.

Kia smiles and takes their hand, "Hey, how come there isn't a mirror in your flat?" She pulls Roni over to the violet victorian sofa in the living area, sitting and beckoning them to sit.

Roni sits, silent for a long time, swallowing discomfort and a tinge of sorrow before finally expressing, "I--I'm not a big fan" they pause, "of how I look."

Kia's brows arch up and her lips cock to the side, creating a single dimple, "I see. I understand."

"No, I--" Roni cuts softly, "I don't think you do, I mean, you seem to look exactly how you want to, you present how you want to. I'm… stuck in a body, a-a prison that I never wanted. Never felt good in… never was comfortable in."

Kia sucks in sharply, "That's got to be--I can't imagine. But Roni, we're not bound by reality here. The person I see when I look at you is probably not the person you're talking about. I have a good feeling about that." Kia pauses, watching Roni hold back tears, "Give it a chance, Roni. Take a look in a mirror. Tell me what you see. I promise, you're going to feel as good as you look."

A mirror appears across the way. An image catches Roni's eye as they bring their sight up to it, a familiar yet different image. They stand up and walk slowly toward the mirror, afraid of what they'll see.

Roni gasps loudly, alarming Kia who reacts and begins to stand. They have their hands over their mouth, wide-eyed and in awe; utterly in shock. Kia moves over to Roni and places her hands gently on Roni's shoulders, caressing softly, comfortingly. Roni's eyes dart up and down and all around their own body and fixate on their face.

Their face, softly angular with a strong jaw, yet elegant and understated, blending with their neck. A nose with a round tip, ever-so-slightly wide, straight out but short with a small bump on the top of the bridge and a rounded, low-set septum. Below the nose are a pair of full, bow shaped lips dipped in the blackest lipstick. Above their adorable nose, are a couple of dreamy, dark, almond shaped eyes that point upward at the outside, outlined in thick, sharp eyeliner. The irises are dark, yes, but not brown or black; instead they are a deep crimson. And above those still, are eyebrows that are that, if one were so inclined, one could trace a perfect, wide 'M' shape and are exactly 0.89cm in thickness, with a dual slit cut over the left eye.

As if the loveliness, softness, and androgyny of their face wasn't enough of a wonderful surprise, below the neck is a body they could not have recognized in the best way. Their hands pat and trace slowly around their chest and belly, their hips, feeling drastic changes to what their body felt like out in the reality.

Everything was different, but just enough.

"I don't look like me" Roni started, "But," they paused, "I look like… me." A single, sparkling teal teardrop ran down Roni's not-too-recessed-but-also-not-pronounced cheekbone, reaching the jawline and seemingly jumping off and glittering away.

They were entranced by their own visage, not believing what they saw was real, forgetting that real doesn't really apply here and what's real is what you want it to be. And without even speaking it into the ether, what they wanted most deeply in their heart, from the moment their body started changing in the reality, was to resemble this, this image, this Roni. They didn't have to actively will it so here in the unreality, The Plane of the Forgotten plucked that want, that absolute need Roni held so passionately--which was another factor to their utter unhappiness in the reality--from their subconscious and made it so.

They turn to Kia, finally, and bury their face in her chest, weeping glittering tears of varying brilliance of teal. They didn't stain, of course, but you could see them dissipating. Kia was surprised by this reaction, not knowing what it meant, but then instantly understanding, and immediately embracing Roni and playing with their dark, choppy, big hair.

"You're beautiful, Roni. And I think this might be the first time you finally see that." Kia states softly.

Roni looks up from Kia's bosom with wet, glimmering eyes, a shining shade of crimson now, and sucks in their lower lip into a small bite, then steps slowly away and fixes their face. They're still quite speechless, honestly, absolutely no idea how to feel or what to think. But then, everyone that finds their way into the unreality has a similar reaction.

"I had a similar reaction," Kia steals my line, "I didn't look like this either in the other plane. And I've been here so long I can't remember what I did look like. And I don't have anything with me from there to remind me anyway."

No one did. Such things are filtered out from the unreality, as they must be forgotten.

"No one does," again, Kia echoes, "it's like this plane filters all of that stuff out." Kia stops and paces a bit, "As if we're supposed to have forgotten it."

Kia really needs to stop doing that, I don't quite like being mimicked. Either way, yes, that. The Plane of The Forgotten keeps out everything you want forgotten as well, even if you didn't know you wanted to forget those things, eventually you will as they will be out of sight and out of mind.

With that, there are other things that this unreality of ours does not allow for, certain things not forgotten in the parallel unforgotten reality.

“Well,” Roni starts, “however this works, I don’t care,” They chuckle, “I feel so comfortable, so light, so me. I finally feel…”

“Like you belong somewhere?” Kia interjects.

“Yes! Yes. Somewhere I belong… by…” Roni trails off. Their mind fogs up in that moment, as if forgetting something.

Kia cocks her head in confusion, waiting for a conclusion to the sentence that will never come. Roni, determined to force themself to remember exactly where they were going with that line, paces around and taps their nose, as if that’s going to beckon the thought to appear. Kia watches them, admiring the apparent adorability of Roni’s restless remembering as they walk toward the posters as if they’ll offer a clue. Roni had always obsessed over things, as if they’d die if they couldn’t remember, or finish, or do the thing. There would be no respite until they had achieved the thing and it was done. This was one such instance, and you could literally see the cogs turning in their oddly wired brain, the smoke billowing from their thrice pierced ears. Kia’s giggling takes a shift toward concern, watching how frustrated Roni is getting as they inspect the posters.

Roni’s feet become glued to one spot, their eyes narrowing, “Something’s not right.”

“What? What do you mean?” Kia walks over to them to inspect the askew poster above the chaise lounge and stuck to the brick wall with black duct tape.

“I mean, I think I know this band but I don’t at the same time? Like they’re not exactly what I…” They trail off again, this time because of a small realisation, “remember. I don’t remember. I don’t--like, this is familiar, right? But like, Linked and Parked? It’s like, it’s almost something I remember, but I don’t remember if I’m remembering it at all.”

Kia sucks in a breath and exhales through her nose, pouting a bit, hands on her hips and squinting heavily with her tongue just waiting to explode in response, the words just burning to fly loose from her lips, the words being, “Mc’scuse me, but huh?”

Ah, yes, the words of the deepest philosophical thinkers of any age, they echo generations of the most passionate questions ever asked. Truly, Kia is among these deities of thought, a mind only meant for such a place as The Plane of The Forgotten.

In any case, Roni’s mind had been distracted from their original obsession and thrown into a new hole from which there may be no escape. Suddenly, the posters vanish and are replaced with still photographs of dead and naked trees in high contrast and greyscale. These changes went unnoticed, as Roni’s mind attempted to fill gaps with familiar themes from a now forgotten favourite album.

“I’m sorry, I was rambling. I’m just--I need to get used to this place I guess, and all the changes from what I’m used to.” Roni drops their gaze toward their scuffed not-Converse then back up toward Kia who was smiling softly.

“You don’t have to apologise for the way you are, especially not here.” She extends her lovely, doll-like fingers toward them and takes their small, squared chin, bringing their face up to meet hers, “Although, I should apologise for being so bold and forward with you. I don’t mean to be so handsy, you know.”

“I--” Roni stammers all flustered, “no it’s okay, I’m okay. I mean, I’m stranded with you. I chose to--to, uh, sort of open myself to you. That, to me, goes for everything.”

“Okay,” Kia takes their hands, “that’s true, but that doesn’t mean you consent to me touching you, or--”

“Hey, you don’t bother me. And I do, okay, I consent. To--to everything.” Roni closes their eyes and turns away, leaving Kia reaching for them, “I never really had any friends, Kia. I never even had anyone close to hold me, run their fingers through my hair, take my hands and comfort me. I didn’t have--People didn’t like me, not really. They pretended, but when I needed them, they would vanish.”

Kia places her hand over her mouth as Roni continues, “My siblings were my first bullies, and my parents never protected me, never showed affection. So, um, when I find someone that seems to care, like, really care, I give as much as I receive. And you’ve shown me nothing but kindness and care since I arrived. And I thought--I thought that maybe, like, this was just how you were with newcomers, or maybe you were just super friendly or something. But then we Stranded and I felt your… I mean like, I think I could feel your heart, Kia.”

Roni turns back to Kia, tears in their eyes, “I’ve never felt anything like what you make me feel. And I don’t know if this is romantic or platonic--or transcendent; I don’t know. But I know it’s something in a lifetime of absolutely nothing.”

Kia is rendered speechless. She sits on the three-seat Victorian and it poofs out violet sparks out from under the cushion from the force of Kia’s emotional kerplunk. Roni’s jaw trembles as it closes and they take the seat right next to her, also poofing sparks, but theirs were hot pink. Roni plops their head on Kia’s shoulder, and in response, Kia lifts her hand up to their head and plays with their hair, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pull that out of you. I--I can relate, so, if you ever want to--”

“I don’t. I don’t want to get into it. But I don’t want to forget either, honestly. It shaped me, made me the person I am. I’m afraid that if I forget, I’ll lose the parts of me that keep me honest and from hurting anyone like I’ve been hurt.” Roni had cut her off. Kia remains silent, understanding their reasoning and not wanting to continue making Roni upset.

They sat there for a very long time, such a long time that not even time itself knew how long it’d been and became a little impatient until finally darkness came over both of their eyes and time had the chance to skip to an undetermined date.

Time; a sentient, let’s say, being, of slightly irrelevant, mostly omnipotent, and 92.77% omnipresent--it needs to rest sometime, you know. It’s exhausting being everywhere with everyone all the time; you try it, it’s not easy--proportions, is a fickle and fragile psyche’d inmortal Force--that is, not mortal, not immortal--with an attitude and exists to bring everyone from anywhere and anywhen into the unreality, where it can watch how so many different generations get on with each other.

Imagine, if you would, the Forces of the "Universe" sitting around a cosmic table at the ends of the universe, contemplating how best to make life more bearable for those that share a similar cosmic psychic, erm, ‘genetic’ make as them while simultaneously giving them a near infinite form of entertainment that rivals whatever Maker made them and what’s referred to as reality. This counsel of sorts got tired of being at the mercy of The Universe and its reality that they banded together inside of what could have been a tear through a black hole that connects into Andromeda, who could absolutely not care an iota less what--let's call them Milky for now--'Milky’s' creations were up to and therefore didn’t tattle to 'Milky' or The Universe themself, and created a pocket dimension they called The Unreality.

This pocket dimension was a proverbial playground for them and an intended paradise for their cosmic psychic siblings that all seemed to reside on Earth, which was odd to them, but then realised that the most unhappy of beings inhabited this planet for, goodness knows why, but they did. But they had, for aeons, watched humans and felt the immense sorrow that certain ones--their ilk--were made to endure for the simple fact that they were other. A design which they hoped would help bring humanity together in empathy and love and bring near-infinite lifetimes of synergistic bliss that would not only save every individual human from Darkness, anger, and hate, but also bring them to harmony with the planet itself as well as all the other beings on it which would foster growth that would span lightyears and bring them to the other persons on other worlds across the galaxy that had already achieved this and stranded together. Instead, though, the Earthlings had stranded themselves away from the rest of the galaxy and even from themselves; stranding the siblings of the Forces and effectively isolating them from the rest of the populace.

This is where The Plane of The Forgotten comes in. Those left stranded find themselves in The Stranding to then strand together and create a more harmonious and cohesive community where no one is left feeling stranded and isolated.