She knew she had to get over the feeling of not-belonging. It wasn't an unfamiliar feeling, but normally when she felt it it was because she
didn't want to be somewhere, rather than the other way around. Oh, she had been places where her help was not wanted, as a Titan that was inevitable, but in Gotham she wasn't here to help. Well, as far as anyone knew. Somehow she doubted if they would warm up to her anymore if she tried to help. She was an unwanted beacon of light, rather literally, and even those who wanted the help didn't want a light to be shed on all the dark corners of the city. She found it difficult to be sympathetic. She understood humans were nothing like the beings of her home, but still...could they not understand what they were doing? To each other, to their world? No, of course not, else they wouldn't be doing it,
she had to remind herself. Only few truly believed, and even fewer of those acted upon that belief, and all were twisted out of the generic human mold for better or worse. It wasn't a coincidence that most of Earth's heroes weren't human, as far as she was concerned. And when they were...well, look at Gotham. It was nothing against the Bat, but it just seemed as though nothing changed, nor would ever change. As much as he tried to change the city, he was still fixated on his past, forever living in crime alley in his head and now his whole city reflected it. Just look at the villains of the city--they were like a child's nightmare. A clown. A riddler. Storybook characters.
It didn't make the pain everyone suffered any less real, however. Standing in the graveyard, she knew that very well. Somehow these humans latched onto suffering so well, she didn't understand why that emotion when they had the whole spectrum. Knowing that, she knew she shouldn't be in a place so sacred to humans, either, but she had been here before. She sat in front of the familiar gravestones, unable to care less if any dirt got on her dress
. She secured a vase of tiger lilies before the two graves. There were already a couple graves that had a single orange lily on them--the Waynes, the Drakes--but these received the rest. She hoped it still counted, even though she didn't quite understand the sentiment. In Tamaran, the dead were disposed of quickly, the only concern how to do so the most environmentally-friendly way. The body meant nothing once the being moved on, according to Kory's people. Graves
didn't exist on her world. Memorials, on occasion, but not even the royal family kept a grave site of any sort. She almost wished they did. No doubt her parents were long dead--the Gordanians no doubt killed them to suppress and prevent any notion of rebellion. Or Kommand'r did it herself.
Her stomach twisted and she let the thoughts leave. When she didn't come alone, she never reflected. She wondered if her present did the same to the one she visited with, and, thinking in a human perspective, wasn't sure if that was a good thing.
For a while she just sat in front of the markers, trying to think of what else she was supposed to do. Once she pushed thoughts of Kommand'r away, her mind hardly wandered. It wasn't the nature of her people, and she had been specially trained to keep control over her mind. She thought of the bright orange flowers, happy that the orange brought some color to this dreary place. Lilies were the flowers for graves, so she had been told--it surprised her more people didn't use the orange, or did she misunderstand something again?
Tentatively, she touched the gravestone, finding herself almost surprised it was just cold stone. No shock, no burning, nothing making her leap away in sudden pain. She gently pressed her lips together before speaking. "You must be so proud of him,"
she murmured. Wasn't this was humans did, speak to this stones, as though the presence of those below were still here? "But...sad for him, too. I don't think Bruce ever gave him the chance to grieve."
Even her people did that--just because they did not host funerals did not mean they didn't grieve. "And I don't think he wanted to, not at the time. And now...it's never too late, but I believe it should have been sooner."
She pressed her lips together again. The words felt just as cold as the stones, void of any actual meaning.
As far as Kory was concerned, she was talking to a rock.
She let out a small sigh and shook her head, looking up to the gray sky. Weren't they supposed to be somewhere up there, far, far away, anyhow? Had her mind been allowed to wander, had her mind been human, she might have thought about these humans as surrogate parents, possible in-laws even, had they been alive. Perhaps that was too much of a delusion for her to consider. Regardless, it didn't occur to her. She just saw the stones she visited on the anniversary of their death every year since she had been on Earth.
Footsteps alerted her of the presence of another being. She slid her hand off the stone and placed it in her lap, suddenly feeling guilty for ever having touched it. No sound followed--the being had stopped moving, for whatever reason. Maybe he was trying to sneak up on her. Her muscles tightened, prepared for an onslaught, but to the human eye she sat just as relaxed as before. "Whoever's there, come out, please. I'm aware of your presence."