Welp, not alone at least (Tag: Ethan & Freya)

[Russel Jefferson]

(POST ORDER: RUSSEL, ETHAN, FREYA. Is this okay guys?)

Darkness. Darkness everywhere with Russel in his room. There was honestly no one to talk to, and of course, no David. He was getting worried about David being in a dangerous situation. Why would the kidnapper throw him into another room all of a sudden. This was strange indeed. He felt strange with no one to talk to. He was looking in the room for clues to think of what to do. At first, he was humming a song, a favorite Jazz tune that Issac, his father would sing to him whenever he was feeling done. He felt a bit calmer but, then feeling the chilly atmosphere in the room, didn't feel the same. He was wishing that David was there, to at least keep him company. He sent another prayer to him, hoping that he was okay.

He then saw a wall, and then remembered that, he, David and two other girls were chatting through a wall to at least communicate with one another. He wasn't sure on who was going to be behind these walls. But, honestly it would be worth a shot. It would be two strangers that he just saw in the basement before they all got separated. Better to talk to random strangers in this case then be with no one to talk to. Russel carefully was slowly walking to a wall and then kneeled down, making sure that no wood-chips would not hurt his knees, not risking to get a damn paper-cut. He sighed to himself, shivering as though he was getting a bit cold. "Does this room have a damn heater or something?" He thought to himself, grumbling angrily. No time to get angry now. He knocked on the wall. "Hello? Anyone there? Is anyone safe?" He asked, with a bit of concern. He didn't want to hear anyone being hurt in this damn place, especially David. 

[Ethan Kaul]

Ethan's gaze was fixated on the scarf as he lay on the bed, feeling the silky material slip around his fingers. If Freya was right and this scarf was Cassim's, it was probably worth more than his parent's house and his tuition fees combined. He decided he'd better keep a hold on it for selfish reasons, just in case he could somehow sell it when they were out of there. Someone who could afford a scarf that expensive probably didn't even need it back, anyway.

It was a testament to how boring this place was that the only thing he could think of to do while Freya was in the bathroom was to stare at their find. Couldn't their kidnapper at least have provided them with a game of Scrabble or something else to pass the time? 

His thoughts were broken by the sound of someone knocking on the wall, making him jump.

"Hello? Anyone there? Is anyone safe?"

Ethan didn't recognise the deep male voice that came from the other side, but he supposed that there were plenty of people he didn't know in this place. Who knew how many innocent victims this person had kidnapped and locked up? It was almost nauseating to think about.

Putting the scarf down, he moved off of the bed and closer to the wall. It might be nice to have some more company, not that Freya wasn't great to talk to, but she was otherwise occupied at that moment, although she could come out at any second. He was sure that if she did, she too would like to talk to someone new, imagining that someone as energetic as her would find his introverted nature rather boring at times.

"Hello? I'm safe and okay, who am I speaking to?"

[Freya Alexander]

Having arranged an agreement with Ethan in respect to showering, Freya hadn’t quite grown accustomed to the exposed nature of it all. At least they, looking at the positives, HAD a shower in all respects, but having her butt out when a – gasp – boy was next door was so alien to her, she tried to be as quick as she possibly could. Freya had to hang her towel in some effort to obscure herself, whilst she left the man to play with the scarf, which had seemed to have become his new baby.

Switching the shower off and shaking the dredges of water from her pink mass of hair, Freya was simply going about her business when she heard a rather distinct noise originating from the other room; the knock of the wall. Freezing, Freya took a moment to process it when she heard the muffled voice of someone NOT quite Ethan, and her adrenaline pumped into action. Pulling on her undergarments and shorts as quickly as possible, the girl didn’t even notice her shirt was rolled up at the front when she charged through to the other room.

Feet still wet, she slid whilst she ran, and ended up crashing into the wall before she could halt herself. Uninjured, she looked at Ethan with an utterly bewildered expression as though she had just committed a terrible crime (refusing to address it), before realising her shirt was exposing her stomach. Growing increasingly flustered, Freya fixed herself, and ended up perching on the bed, her eyes alight in an enthusiasm she couldn’t communicate.

Ethan’s company was that of a lovely thing, and the pair got on immensely well; though the idea of having neighbours seemed to fill her with a new excitement that she could hardly contain herself. Perhaps it was someone that could help them? The voice was unfamiliar, though distinctly older and male presenting.

"Hello? I'm safe and okay, who am I speaking to?"

Freya nodded at Ethan’s curt addressing of the voice, bouncing where she sat (her legs dangling).

“Hello! We’re safe – as we can be. It’s Ethan and Freya speaking. God, it’s good to hear another voice,” she exclaimed, smiling benignly at Ethan. She slicked her sopping wet hair back so that water wasn’t dripping into her eyes, and anticipatedly awaited the mystery man’s response.

[Russel Jefferson]

He was hearing two people responding on the other door saying that they're safe. Alright, at least two people are on the other side are fine. He couldn't really recognize the two of them. One sounded like a young man and other was a female. He had no idea on how many people were kidnapped in this damn place. No one would never know the answer to that question for sure. He sighed in relief. He heard the young man asking on was talking on the other side, although he got a bit sidetracked for a second due to being in fear since he was alone. "Oh, my name? Its Russel. I know that we may not know each other before, but, to be fair, I'm honestly scared for my nephew. Do any of you know on what room he went to? He's gone.." He responded, feeling a tear coming down his eye. He honestly hoped that David was alright. But, time to get to know these people. 

"Glad to hear that you two are safe. Who am I speaking to behind this wall? Can you guys find anything to keep you guys safe? Like a blanket or anything?" He asked, hoping that his neighbors would find something. He couldn't find anything sadly with his nephew in the last room that he was in, along with his neighbors not finding anything. Hopefully these two would find something. "Also, I know we are strangers right now. But, want to talk about anything?" He offered, feeling a bit awkward while starting the conversation. He paused and cleared his throat. "God, I could go for some water right about now." He thought to himself as he felt some dust going near his throat, coughing a bit. 

He wished that this room would bring at least more comfort. The room that Russel was in right now, felt a bit more unsafe compared to the last room. At least the bed was a lot more comfier and the room was more clean. This room, however, felt as though he would get stuck with wood-chips being near his body, especially his knees. 

[Ethan Kaul]

Just as Ethan was about to open his mouth to respond, a very wet and hurriedly dressed Freya came hurtling into the room, promptly crashing into the wall. He raised an eyebrow and chuckled softly; that girl really was a pink tornado of a human (and an accident waiting to happen).

"Are you okay?" he asked her, choosing to ignore the fact that her clothes were only half-put on. She seemed okay, but it was good to make sure she hadn't hit her head or something when she went flying into the wall, "You're mad, you know that?"

He meant it in the kindest way, of course. Ethan was rather enjoying the pink-haired girl's company, and they had grown more comfortable with each other as the days went by. He couldn't help but tease her for her clumsiness, and the fact that she was still dripping wet, soaking through her clothes and the bedsheets that she chose to sit on.

“Hello! We’re safe – as we can be. It’s Ethan and Freya speaking. God, it’s good to hear another voice," Freya added on, bouncing up and down like a chipmunk who'd had too much sugar.

"Hey!" he laughed good-naturedly, "I'm wonderful company, I'll have you know!"

"Oh, my name? It's Russel. I know that we may not know each other before, but, to be fair, I'm honestly scared for my nephew. Do any of you know on what room he went to? He's gone.."

"What's his name?" Ethan frowned, resting his elbows on his knees and leaning on his hands, "Maybe one of us have seen him, although I haven't been roomed next to any guys yet. Unless he's called Huxley, of course."

"We haven't found anything to keep us safe, other than an expensive scarf," he continued, "I suppose we could keep looking? Another blanket might help, Freya has cold feet."

"Also, I know we are strangers right now. But, want to talk about anything?"

Ethan looked over at Freya and shrugged, before turning back to the wall. The whole concept of talking to a wall was still strange to him, especially when he had literally no idea who this man was or what he looked like.

"I mean, is there anything you want to talk about?" he responded, not really willing to share his feelings with someone he didn't know yet.

[Freya Alexander]

With the dynamite sharknado of furious pink that decided to pummel herself into the wall, at Ethan’s gentle question as to if she were ‘okay’, she turned to him, incredibly serious, and muttered:

“That… is an excellent question. With many overriding factors. We shall see,” before plonking her butt onto the bed.

“You’re mad, you know that?”

She smirked at that, wiggling her eyebrows in mocking self-reproach. “As a hatter. Better catch up, Kaul,” she poked his arm gently, before turning to the sound of the stranger across the wall. “And you’re wonderful company; I’m just teasing,” she added swiftly, her face softening

So, his name was Russel. It didn’t spark any recognition in her head necessarily, though, as she thought back to the time they all awoke in the same room together, Freya did remember a similar-sounding voice echoing through the small room. Though in the darkness it was terribly futile to try and find the source. She had no clue as to who his nephew were either, though Freya could only hope the poor boy was alright, seeing the distraught state the older gentleman was inevitably in.

As predicted, Ethan began answering the man’s questions, throwing an occasional look at the girl, who only nodded in encouragement. At the aforementioned ‘cold feet’ Freya rolled her eyes and shook her head in a certain fond humour she’d found herself engaging with Ethan. The pair truly did know how to gently mock the other, without being too hurtful. “Pass me the scarf, eh? Wrap it around my little toesy-wosies,” she murmured in Ethan’s ear, quiet enough so only the young man could hear her.

“I’m sorry, Russel; I don’t think I know your nephew. I-I’m sure he’s doing alright.” She cried out through the wall, maybe a little too optimistically. Freya didn’t like creating false hope, but if it tended to the poor man, then perhaps it would be worth it. As Russel then asked what they wanted to talk about, Ethan threw her another wary look. Freya read it and genuinely considered it for a brief moment. This Russel character didn’t seem to be the threatening type, though in all regards they both had to have their guard up with the strangers surrounding them. Who knew the true identities of those that had kidnapped them.

"I mean, is there anything you want to talk about?" Ethan queried, guarded. Freya bounced off this and remarked quickly:

“Look, it’s clear we don’t know each other. We’re a little worried about… everything, y’know? Why don’t we relax and chat for a bit? And… don’t you have any water? I don’t know if we could give you anything, I’m sorry!”

[Russel Jefferson]

He was hearing the young man on the other side asking him for his nephew's name and he was sighing, just thinking about him again; He just hoped that he was doing alright, holding back tears. "His.. name...is David Jefferson." He responded, coughing again as he felt dust going into his throat. As soon as he was done coughing, he was hearing Ethan mentioning that maybe he or the girl would have seen him around when everyone was in the basement. He have had at least been there with everyone else. "He has... light colored skin, jet black hair, a thin beard over his chin, and he's six feet two. Thank you for your concern about my nephew. I hope he's doing alright too."

He was describing David's body type to the both of them, hopefully that they could at least paint a familiar picture. He heard the young man mentioning that he and Freya found an expensive scarf to keep warm, at least some type of clothing provide something to keep them heated up in the room. "Unfortunately, I don't have anything in this damn room. I would be hopeful to find something, but, I ain't trusting this room one damn bit." He responded, feeling a bit chilly. He decided to go back to go to the bathroom and see if there are towels to keep him warm... Nope. Nothing to keep him warm with. He was hearing the female letting him know that she doesn't know on where his nephew was and he sighed, but, hopefully the description of him would at least have them be somewhat familiar with his lookalikes. He heard Freya asking him if he was having some water on his end and Russel nodded, wishing that there was water in the damn room that he was in. "Sadly, I don't. As for maybe a conversation.." He thought about on what to say to start a conversation, hopefully a good one would keep everyone's mind off of being trapped in this damn place. "What kind of music do you both listen too? I'm a Jazz artist and I did play in my own band." He asked while using his hand to wipe off the sweat marks on his face.

[Ethan Kaul]

"His.. name...is David Jefferson. He has... light colored skin, jet black hair, a thin beard over his chin, and he's six feet two. Thank you for your concern about my nephew. I hope he's doing alright too."

While the name vaguely rang a bell, it didn't spark any instant recognition in Ethan's brain. Light skin, black hair, tall, and with a beard could describe a lot of men, hell, take out the light skin part and it could very nearly be about him. Nevertheless, the man was clearly concerned for his nephew's well-being, and Ethan felt a need to comfort him, to reassure him that David would be okay.

"I haven't seen him, but I promise that if I do, I'll let him know you were thinking of him. I'm sure he's just as concerned about you as you are about him, and hopefully he's doing okay in here."

There wasn't much more he could say. The only people he knew of as definitely still being alive were Freya and Russel, with the potential for Huxley, Sawyer, Kim, and Hannah to also be part of that group, unless something drastic had happened during their room change. Ethan only wished he could know how everyone else was, the friends and the enemies he'd been reunited with in that basement, as well as the others he'd seen. 

“Pass me the scarf, eh? Wrap it around my little toesy-wosies,” Freya mumbled in his ear, and he let out a snort of laughter that made him cover his mouth immediately, hoping the man hadn't heard. He wouldn't want him to think that Ethan had been laughing at him, he'd just found the pink-haired girl's comment to be rather amusing.

"Kinky, but I would agree that you need to wrap it around your icicle feet," he whispered back, sending a playful wink her way. He had to admit, she had a very good sense of humour, and they had settled into a routine of gently ribbing each other when they got the chance, which had certainly brightened up his day. Both roommates he'd had so far had brought different things to the table: Huxley had brought his wisdom and hilarious stories, whilst he was able to joke with Freya even despite the situation they were in. He supposed that he had gotten very lucky in that respect.

"Unfortunately, I don't have anything in this damn room. I would be hopeful to find something, but, I ain't trusting this room one damn bit."

"Fair enough," Ethan nodded, "Is it just you on your own, or do you have a roommate too?"

The man continued, asking them what music they were into. He had to admit, he was impressed that the man was a musician. Whilst Ethan had excelled in most areas of his life, music hadn't been one of them, much to his chagrin. He was a little better than tone deaf, but playing an instrument was certainly out of the question, partly because of his lack of musicality, but also because he tended to give up on things if he wasn't immediately good at them.

"Well..." Time to expose himself here. He was sure that Freya would lap up this teasing material straight away, "I really like seventies and eighties music. Super cheesy stuff, but it cheers me up. And I can't say I have any musical talent, so it's pretty impressive that you had your own band."

[Freya Alexander]

At the description of the gentleman’s nephew, Freya’s brow furrowed in consideration. She honestly didn’t think she knew anyone of the description; though perhaps having seen him in the room as she had seen Russel, before her eyes rested on Ethan. Though she knew the description was likely not of him (as Ethan didn’t quite match the lighter skinned aspect of the descriptor) Freya made a face at him that read: ‘Huh, sounds a little like you’. They moved on as soon as they had began, and Ethan reaffirmed exactly what Freya would have said to the worried older gentleman.

“I’ll do the same. I can only imagine he’s looking out for you too.” As hard as the girl threw her mind back to the previous month, she could not for the life of her recall anyone under the name David. She shook her head in defeat, and made a mental note to look and listen out for anyone who identified under that description.

In her brief moment of consideration, she heard Ethan splutter in an effort to hide the laugh that was desperate to escape, having priorly muttered something she believed not to be that funny initially. It was pleasant getting a laugh or two from the initially perceived serious Doctorate student. She giggled to herself, covering her mouth to muffle the sound. Their poor neighbour would likely be bewildered by the sudden onslaught of laughter after he had expressed a fear for his own flesh and blood. It was entirely not supposed to appear with ill-intentions.

"Kinky, but I would agree that you need to wrap it around your icicle feet," he winked mischievously at her, and Freya’s jaw grew slack in surprise. Her face turning a pale shade of pink, she seized her flannel (which she had been using as a makeshift blanket on her lap) and slapped him with the sleeve. It made more of a noise than an impact, and Freya had to bury her still-wet head into the bundle of clothes for a moment to oppress the guffaw placing pressure on the edges of her resolve.

“Excuse me, but my icicle fe- I mean, my extremely cosy feet are perfectly lovely. Just because YOU have a foot fetish, doesn’t mean I should have to cover up these beauties,” she laughed, trying desperately to maintain that silence, whilst lifting a leg to flex her toes. Her eyes lingered on him for a moment, trying to perceive if he was going to retort, before laying it back down again. She turned to the wall again and made sure to clear up anything that Russel might have heard:

“I’m sorry Russel! After being trapped in with each other for so long, we’re finding the weirdest things funny. Anything to get through,” she breathed, sending a faux-seething look of reproach to Ethan, pursing her lips in ‘unamusement’.

"Unfortunately, I don't have anything in this damn room. I would be hopeful to find something, but, I ain't trusting this room one damn bit."

“Pfft, don’t blame you. These rooms are death traps,” she groaned, tucking her – actually – frigid feet into her thighs to maintain some of the heat. At the talk of Music, Freya’s eyes perked up; somehow only just realising how much she had missed rocking out whilst she got ready in the evening, or going to see some indie band playing at their local student bar. She didn’t even hear Ethan reply, until the formations of ‘cheesy’, ‘seventies’ and ‘eighties’ met her ears.

Oh, Ethan. You amazing bastard…

The look she gave him was bordering on appearing deranged. Eyes wide and a bright smile slick on her lips, she communicated (silently) through that expression how ‘interesting’ that was to her indeed. It was a look that would make Jack Nicholson proud. She would be sure to wake him up with a serenading of some eighties song she could begin to remember from her times in the car with her dads, who were partial to a bit of cheesy stuff themselves.

“Oh I like a bit of everything,” she grinned, eyes never leaving his, though the own glint in her eyes were as prominent as ever. “Mainly Indie stuff, or a bit of punk. Depressing lyrically but you can jam out to it, so you’re able to just not think about it too much. I’m not a fan of the charts, to be honest with you; pop is a bit overkill. It’s amazing you were in a band! A singer? Or, musician?”

[Russel Jefferson]

He was hearing the guy mentioning that if he saw his nephew, he would right away, look for him, and let him know that his uncle was looking for him. At least someone else cares, and he could imagine that the kidnapper wouldn't give any craps about searching for a family member in this damned to hell place. He sighed in relief; "Thank you God." He thought to himself while sighing. "Thank you so much, whoever you are in there. Thank you for letting me know if you're going to talk to him again. I hope he's alive and doing alright too. I do indeed worry about him." He said, thanking him. Russel was hearing him talking about wrapping a scarf around someone else's toes and he did chuckle a bit. Thankfully his neighbors next door were as friendly and socially active like Maya and Aoi were while being locked with David. He heard Ethan asking him if it was by himself or he was with someone else; Russel sighed again, wishing that he could at least have someone to comfort him physically but, having neighbors was better than nothing. "Well, sadly it's just me alone. I never honestly had that feeling of being alone without anyone in the room or someone next to me. I have to admit it's very lonely." He responded, feeling a small tear coming out from his eyes, thinking about David again.

He heard the young lady apologizing that they talk about the weirdest things when being trapped together and he chuckled once again. "Hey, it's fine. At least talking or finding funny topics to talk about will keep you guys distracted. I got nothing in here, except for a dusty teddy bear. Not risking on touching it; What if it had wood chips on that fuzzy piece of crap too." He said, raising his eyebrows, thinking about not taking a chance to not touch anything in this room. Although looking for something would be useful. He still had that lockpick from the basement but, rather keep it safe than sorry. He heard Freya mentioning that there could be death traps in this room and he nodded, agreeing. "Yeah, I agree. I'm not looking for damn trouble in here. I rather distract myself by doing something useful than searching for stuff without getting hurt as a result." He responded, rolling his eyes at the thought of the kidnapper setting up traps in these damn rooms.

The conversation transitioned as he was talking about music and it seemed that both of them were interested in hearing his past about him being in a band; He chuckled when he heard Ethan mentioning that he liked the seventies and eighties music. "Hey, it doesn't matter what genre you like. I mainly listen to Jazz music, as I said. My wife at times listens to musicians such as ABBA or Aretha Franklin, but, me, I'm a Jazz person." He responded to Ethan's comment. He heard Freya's questions asking if he was a musician or a singer; "Well, I played the drums in my Jazz band; I was also a music teacher in Madienfield High. I organized charity events for my son, who had Autism. But, I've been playing the drums for many years ever since my father taught me them. He got me into Jazz actually by introducing me to a lot of famous artists such as Miles Davis and Louis Armstrong. I also agree with you. The charts music for the past couple of years isn't the same anymore. I'm not a giant fan of Pop music either." He said, agreeing with her. So far, he actually enjoyed being with these two neighbors. He just wished David was there to share the same conversations with him and these guys.

[Ethan Kaul]

“Excuse me, but my icicle fe- I mean, my extremely cosy feet are perfectly lovely. Just because YOU have a foot fetish, doesn’t mean I should have to cover up these beauties.”

Ethan rolled his eyes playfully, "You're not the one who has to feel them brush up against you at night. And trust me, if anything I'm anti-foot fetish, so keep those toes away from me."

He cringed when she held up her foot. There was something about feet that just made him feel... squicked out, and even though Freya's were better than most, they were still feet at the end of the day.

Yup, I'm never becoming a podiatrist.

Luckily for him, the pink haired girl took the initiative to apologise for their banter. He was aware that it probably made him feel left out, especially now that he had confirmed he had no roommate. That part alone was strange; surely if this person was going to marry them off to each other they'd pick an even number? Maybe there was something he was missing there...

"Hey, it's fine. At least talking or finding funny topics to talk about will keep you guys distracted. I got nothing in here, except for a dusty teddy bear. Not risking on touching it; What if it had wood chips on that fuzzy piece of crap too."

"Well, we're here if you ever need to chat about anything. I, for one, am getting pretty sick of this girl's voice," he teased, once more winking at Freya, "I'm sure she feels the same about me too."

Russel went on to say that he wasn't looking to get himself in trouble, and Ethan thought back to the hole he and Freya had tried to create. Oh, what a poor idea that had been, but at least they could laugh about it (and continue making endless hole puns). He only hoped their attempts at breaking out wouldn't lead them to be punished in the future.

As predicted, the girl's facial expression was one of pure amusement at his revelation. He rolled his eyes again, trying to disguise his embarrassment. Ethan certainly didn't seem the type of guy who would love listening to some cheesy seventies and eighties classics, that he could admit, but something about them just made him happy. And, yes, he did know the all the words to pretty much every ABBA song ever written, not that he was going to let Freya know that. He wasn't about to give her more teasing ammunition.

"That's pretty amazing," he nodded at Russel's explanation of being a drum teacher, trying to ignore the girl's blue eyes on him, "Maybe when we get out of here you can teach me something. I'd like to hone my musical talent, or rather, gain some talent. The dream is to become a sort of Renaissance man, and I'm fairly good at everything else anyway."

Not that he was bragging or anything.

[Russel Jefferson]

He was chucking at the fact that they were teasing each other about having “foot fetishes” but, in an uncomfortable way but, he knew that the more teasing that people would do, the more distracted thinking they would have from this damn hellhole. He was hearing the man mentioning that he wouldn’t blame him for not touching anything, which was understandable regardless. He chuckled again hearing that he was getting sick of hearing his neighbor’s voice and he was laughing to himself. At least they would distract themselves, that’s for sure. He then heard Ethan mentioning that he really wanted a lesson from him and Russel thought that would be nice. He felt honored that someone wanted to learn from him as soon as everyone hopefully will get out safely. “Sure. I would love to teach you that one day, young grasshopper.” He said, with a bit of a smile in his voice. That really made his day. He felt himself yawning, but, as much as he hated to get on that crappy bed, he had no choice.

He then knocked on the wall again. “Hey, I’m about to get some rest now. I’m pretty tired. So, hopefully, we’ll talk soon. Bye for now.” He said, and went to the bed to think about his happy distraction from being alone in the room by himself. This was better than thinking about his loneliness to be quite fair.

{End Thread}