#i hate scrapping this so im storing it here in case i can re-add it later

[comphetkoncass]

uploading scrapped scene from Florida!!!

/////

Kori keeps her promise to stay, to remember. She and Roy break up anyway. They only last a few more weeks before going their separate ways. 

Back then, when Roy called her Kori, she wonders – did he call her Kory, or Kori? Does he see the difference when talking about the time before she forgot, or does he call her the same? To him, has she always been Kori?

Does the distinction matter, if they sound the same?

If even Kori doesn’t know exactly when it became Kori-not-Kory? 

It feels like it should matter. But here in Key West, chances for reflection have been minimal. She thinks there’s a part of her that’s doing it intentionally. After all, this is a chance to reinvent herself. To gain a life and network outside of hero work. 

“I was told you needed some advice,” Superman had said when they met up in Metropolis, and she asked how an alien might integrate. 

Had she already been calling herself Kori? Was it, “Please, call me Kori,” or “Please, call me Kory.”? How can she tell, when they sound the same?

Can they tell that she's changed?

She doesn’t know. 

Somehow, she keeps coming back to her name. It’s a silly thing, but somehow, it matters. Whenever she thinks of her past, it makes it easier to segment things into boxes. Her memories of being Kory are still incomplete, but it is Kory who lived through those nine years she erased. It’s easier, in some ways, that she does not remember everything yet. She is still unearthing Kory’s memories; this means that it is easier for Kori to take shape as her own being. If she does not remember ever facet of Kory’s memories – if there are blanks, things that she has not yet accomplished – then Kori can claim these feats solely as her own. She can become anything she wants to be. Truly, this time. Before, in so many of her memories as Kory, she felt as though she was defined solely by those whom she allied herself with. But now…

Now, Kori can be anyone. 

But she wonders – it’s awfully lonely trying to figure out who you’re supposed to be. 

It doesn’t help that she’s alone at the pool, she thinks. There are so many humans here. So many on vacation, passing through and looking to have a good time. So many that are willing to have a fleeting connection, a spark. She should be able to try on identities with every new stranger, kiss whomever she likes, learn about all she can while she lives with such an ever-changing population. 

And yet, Kori has stayed with largely the same group since coming here. Stella, Sol, Atlee. 

Some part of her will always seek real connections. 

That was the point of Key West, wasn’t it? Why she asked so many of her allies where she should go, what she should try.

More than anything in the world, she wishes she could have asked Dick, or Raven, or Vic, or Jericho. Or… Or the one she still can’t find a name for. The hole in her heart, where she knows there was once a friend.

Roy gave decent advice, as did Zatanna, and Tim, and all of the others she had asked. But there was a loneliness permeating their advice. Advice given from people who, at the heart of things, did not truly know her. 

Superman had given slightly better advice. 

But he wasn’t like her. He might have been a solar-powered alien, too; he might have been sent from Krypton, which was destroyed just as Tamaran now was. But he had grown up on Earth. His home was here. He had a secret identity, a whole life outside of being Superman, and it was what brought him true joy. So that is what he recommended to her. A life outside of being Starfire. A chance to get to know herself again – to see what she could be like, if she focused, just this once, on building a life for herself. 

She’s glad she’s here, though. 

Isn’t she?