cycleofages | (no subject)

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Who: Jamal Lyon, OTA
What: Trying to get out of his creative rut??
Where: Rec room
When: Nov 20, late morning
Warning: Mention of violence.

After spending more time that could be reasonable in his room, Jamal decides that the same scenery day after day isn't good for his creative processes. So despite the fact that he's still more of the opinion that he wants to avoid encounters -- which probably would have been good for him anyway -- he made his way down to rec area. He knew there were different areas for activities but he was drawn to the comfy sofas for now.

Setting against the the arm of one, he pulls the pencil from where he'd stored it behind his ear, the tablet that had been in his other hand now on his lap. Honestly, there wasn't much more here to give him a spark of inspiration than there had been in his room. He really should look into trying to get his hands on a keyboard again.

He shook his head, putting pencil to paper and furrowing his brow when not a single word came and the music that his entire life had been a constant companion and soundtrack to the world was silenced --had been since he'd been shot at an awards show. Maybe he'd lost his music in all that had changed.

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Thea had been slowly coming out of her own emotional cocoon since Grace had pulled her out of the haze via a dress. So she had finally left HQ on a mission to buy supplies, fabric and a proper dressmakers dummy so that would explain her lugging the dummy back into HQ. That was when her sketchbook fell from her bag and landed in the rec room, landing on a page with an in progress cocktail dress (classic design but with a very modern flair).

It wasn't necessarily hard to draw Jamal's attention when he wasn't all that focused in the first place so the sound of someone lugging a dummy and then more directly the drop of the sketchbook on the floor had him looking up.

"Let me grab that," he said, crossing the distance to reach down and pick it up, unable to help but notice the design on the paper that was face up. "Wow, that's really good," he said, offering the sketchbook back to her, a bit sheepishly because he really shouldn't have looked. He'd know how he'd feel if someone taken a peek at his unfinished lyrics.

"Thanks! I forgot how hard it is to lug one of these things." Thea had to smile since she knew no harm was meant. That was when she realized her sketchbook had fallen from her bag,"Thanks, took me ages to even think about picking up a pen. Long story." but her smile shows she's not worried since the book did land on the floor.

"Do you need more help?" Jamal offered easily. He wasn't getting much done and well he wasn't the type to not offer.

"That I can relate to." Picking up again had been the most difficult thing and it still wasn't going particularly well.

"Just with doors? Just need to get the dummy into my room for the moment." Thea asked. "Cool if you don't want to spill but what happened? I just hit a massive block mostly." leaving out the whole part of crash landing in the HQ pool right after being stabbed.

"I can help you with that," Jamal offered easily.

He hesitated slightly at the question. "I had an injury and some issues with a friend," he finally said. It was strange to be in a world where his shooting hadn't been live on TV.

"Know the feeling, to make a long story short I had just been stabbed by a family enemy when this place dropped me into its pool." Thea left the Ra's Al Ghul saga at that for now.

Jamal frowned slightly before nodding. "I was shot," he clarified slowly but he didn't elaborate because he really found himself not wanting to talk about his father or Freda. One out of anger and one out of sorrow.

Dyme had been spending a lot of time by himself, too. No matter how hard he'd tried though or how hard he'd looked, he hadn't managed to figure out a way out of this place. Eventually, he'd given up and when he was done sulking he finally started poking around where other people actually spent time. It was probably better for everyone else that he'd stayed away for so long, too; it limited the amount of people he bitched at and rubbed the wrong way.

He didn't intrude on anyone's personal space, so he plopped himself down on the couch next to the one that was occupied, propping his chin on his hand. "Hey."

Jamal had managed maybe a few lines -- that he wasn't liking -- by the time Dyme was there. He heard him come in before he'd said anything but Jamal didn't look up until he did.

He offered a smile. It was probably a good idea to start meeting and talking to people more again.

"Hey," he returned the greeting, pencil tapping a rather uninspiring rhythm on the notebook once he stopped trying to write on it.

Dyme waited a moment to make sure he wasn't interrupting a good writing session before he said anything more. "What're you working on? If you don't mind me asking." He wouldn't pester anyone about what they were doing if they didn't want to share.

Jamal certainly didn't mind and honestly, he wasn't getting much done which was starting to frustrate him if he were being completely honest. So talking to someone was actually a welcome aside.

"Was trying to start a new song," he said, rubbing his forehead briefly. "But nothing's there."

Dyme made a thoughtful noise. "I know that feeling. Sometimes the hardest part is starting it," he said. "And then you're stuck with that restless feeling because you want to write but you can't find inspiration and it just--it sucks." And he knew that feeling well. He'd spent months struggling with a creative block after Moira, and it hadn't been easy writing songs for a long while.

"Exactly that," Jamal nodded and it'd been a while since he'd talked to anyone that understood song-writing enough to say something like that. He sighed as he glanced at the notebook. "It makes me feel incomplete."

"Yeah." It'd been a long time since Dyme had talked music with anyone, and he hadn't had many musician friends at home. "Sometimes it helps not to think about it too much. I used to, uh, watch videos. Online. When I had trouble." Of cats, mostly. Or movies.

Jamal was a musician from a family of musicians that ran a kingdom of music. Not having someone to talk about music with had been a bit like starving to him. "Oh yeah?" Jamal smiled a little. "I used to..." he really hadn't ever had trouble with it like this before, he rubbed his forehead.

"Used to do a jam session with my little brother." If there had ever been a moment he got stuck, he'd call Hakeem and they'd work it out.

Dyme smiled despite the small pang of sadness he felt, pushing the emotion down just like he'd done hundreds of times before. Thirteen years without his own brother was both a long time and not long enough to not still miss him.

"Brothers are great like that, aren't they?" Dyme said. "Sometimes the guys in my band would help me out like that." When and if he'd admit to them that he needed help. Usually he tried to work through it on his own, though.

Jamal nodded. Hakeem was a pain in the ass but he'd always been there in the end when it really mattered. His older brother too. He still wasn't used to living in a world where they aren't just a phone call away.

"You had a band and all, huh?" Jamal asked with a small smile. "What kind of music? Rock?"

"Yeah." Dyme modded. "They're great guys." He wondered what they were doing without him. This wasn't the first time he'd vanished, but it would be the first time that no one would be able to get a hold of him. They'd stuck with him through a lot--they deserved to know he hadn't died or something.

"What gave it away? I love rock. I tried some ballads once, but." But those had been for Moira, and that time was over now. "It didn't go too well."

"well you don't look like you're in a boy band," Jamal replied dryly but there was still humor in his eyes. "I do a lot of ballads," he rubbed his chin. He did a lot of different sorts of things but he supposed the all fell under the umbrella of hip hop or r&b which was utterly predictable so he didn't feel the need to offer the information out loud.

"Why do you say it didn't go well though?"

"I guess I don't," he laughed. "Ballads are nice, I like them, I just..." he'd only tried with Moira, because she'd made him happy. Not that he wasn't happy now, but it was different. "When the muse is gone, sometimes you just can't get back in the right headspace for something." He had finished ballads, but he was never going to sing or record them, most likely.

Elena was sitting with her laptop out on one of the tables. Like Jamal she was looking for inspiration while doing her work. She frowned as she moved the photo across the screen. Something about it didn't look right.

She looked up from her work and spotted Jamal who looked like he was having similar issues with concentration.

"What are you working on?" She needed something to inspire her and she hoped to find it in their conversation.

Jamal glanced over when he heard the other speak. He lifted up the notebook, a small shake of his head. "I was attempting to get some lyrics down," he answered her, and better than trying to force he returned the question.

"You?"

Elena looked back at her laptop and then turned it so that Jamal might see the imagine on the screen. It was a still photo of a man without a shirt, twisted into a position that looks more primal than human. The lighting drapes most of the figure in darkness.

"I'm working on editing my photos, I don't usually do that much but I feel like it needs something." She hasn't decided if it's a filter her perhaps it just needs to be cropped to get the whole effect.

Jamal took in the image on the screen, leaning closer as he admired it for a moment. It was quite good in his opinion.

"It's quite nice, though," Jamal complimented, an easy smile crossing his face. "What sort of something do you think it might need?" He really didn't know much about photography aside from having his picture taken.

Elena exhaled a slow breath before shaking her head. "I don't know." This particular picture was dedicated to someone she knew who'd since left. She didn't know if she'd ever see him again and in her own way this is how she can immortalize him.

"It just feels off, just a little." A frown touched her lips. "Perhaps I need a break."

"Sometimes that helps. Can come back to it with fresh eyes and it might fall into place or it might feel right," Jamal agreed, not that he was always so great at taking that same advice.

"And is that what you're doing?" She pointed down at his paper.

"Trying to write a song or... just write anything," Jamal answered, exhaling heavily which was as much as anything an indication it wasn't going very well.

Elena's head turned to the side as she looked down at the paper. "Do you know what you want it to be about?"

Jamal smiles a bit wryly at the question. For once in his life he's not sure what he wants to write about. He shakes his head. "it's probably part of the problem."

That was something that Elena could understand. "What do you like best? Joy, love, desire, pain, regret?" She went through a few basic emotions from very happy to very sad. It was all she could do to help.

"That might be the best place to start."

Jamal sighed at the question, rubbing his chin which reminded him that he really needed to shave. "I don't think I know right now...which might be another problem."

Elena smiled. "I can't really help if you don't know where to start. How about this, how are you feeling right now?" After everything that happened there was probably something worth writing about in there.

Jamal nodded. One could only expect that at this point he was nearly whining which helped no one least of all himself. "I feel lost and..." his brow furrowed as he searched for the correct word.

"Like the best part of me was carved out."

"Sounds like it's something worth singing about." She gave him an understanding expression.

"It's a start."

"I suppose so," Jamal sighed and maybe he was just trying to avoid having to face it.

"Do you not want to write about that?" It wasn't hard for Elena to notice that something was up.

"I don't mean to push but you look like you're having trouble."

"I don't know that I do yet," Jamal shrugs because there's quite a lot about it that he's not dealing with. He probably should be. This is a different world and if he's ever going to move past what happened he's going to have to figure out a way to do it without talking things through with Freda.

Without a lot of the things that were a given before.

"Well if you want someone to talk to, you're welcome to find me." She flashed him a smile before shutting down her computer.

"I'm thinking of going for a swim."

"Thank you," Jamal said, a smile touching his lips briefly again. She had actually given him some things to think about.

His hand went to his side at the mention of swimming and he chuckled. "I never did really learn how. It might help you think about that photo, though."

"That's the idea. If you ever want to learn I can teach you." Elena pointed to the fogged glass on the far side of the room. "This place has a decent sized pool."

It was one of the many things she tried to focus on while stuck here.

Jamal smiled, tapping his pencil to paper. "Maybe sometime," he said, and he's not sure if he means it or not when it comes down to it but also he's not one to completely rule something new out

Elena flashed him a smile before nodding her head. “Sometime then.”

She turned and walked towards the pool, only pausing to gather the rest of her things.

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