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Jaenelle has been fighting for days. The safframate coursing through her veins can only be worked out through sex or bloodletting and she's fairly certain she would much rather hunt a tiger with her bare hands than let any man within six feet of her. It's fading now, leaving behind a bone-deep malaise that leaves her so tired that all she wants is good food and sleep. She doesn't feel like she's being rubbed raw any more and she feels almost human enough to venture back into her cabin.

Jaenelle pulls open the door, a smile touching her lips as she thinks about all the delicious things she's going to make Lucivar cook for her (she'd tried cooking once and blew up the entire kitchen at SaDiablo Hall. She's been banned since then) but when she steps through the door and opens her eyes, it isn't her cabin that she sees. Oh no.

Jaenelle had done this as a child. Without an understanding of basic Craft and a reservoir of power too deep to be controlled, she'd often disappeared and reappeared somewhere else without much thought. After she'd gotten a little older, Jaenelle had learned how to deliberately go somewhere but this seems like a hearkening back to her younger days. It appears to be an inn of some sort, with people milling around, and Jaenelle is suddenly aware that her clothes are torn and her palms are bloodstained. She self-consciously brushes a hand over her hair, hoping to tame it a little, and tries to force herself to be a little more human and polite than she particularly wants to be at the moment.

Like as not, this inn is still in some part of Kaeleer. As a child, she'd been asked not to travel around Terreille and she'd kept to that. This place seems too warm to be Hell so it must still be Kaeleer, which means she's only a thought away from home if she needs to get away. She doesn't think that is going to be an issue; the staff here seem warm and friendly even if they are landen and don't wear jewels. She senses some power here, great power, but it isn't anything like the power she's used to.

"Maybe there's other ways of doing magic than using jewels," Jaenelle says, half to herself. If that's the case, she can't wait to tell the Coven about this place and help probe the mysteries of it with them. She thinks that would be an excellent way to spend a day or two. She strides up to the desk clerk, announces herself, and walks away with a key and a room assignment.

"Now, it's time to eat," she says, descending upon the buffet with great gusto. It's been days since she's had a real meal and there is going to be nothing standing in the way of her and breakfast right now.

[Find Jaenelle at the desk or eating at the buffet.]

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It's like Katniss is multiplying. This has got to be at least the fourth version of her that Johanna has seen. If she didn't know any better, she'd imagine that the Capitol has started to clone them and has set them loose here, just to fuck with their heads. She gives her a disbelieving look from the salad area of the buffet, scoffing with disbelief. "Really?" she demands, patience running low. "How many of you are there?"

"I'm fairly sure I'm the only one of me," Jaenelle says easily enough. She's never seen anyone who looks even remotely like her; she may have been born from her mother and Phillip Alexander but she doesn't resemble either of them.

"Are you sure you didn't just see me earlier at the desk?"

"No, trust me, I'd remember that, too," is Johanna's sharp reply, stabbing a piece of meat with her knife and moving it onto her plate. She can't help rolling her eyes, thinking that if this place starts churning out multiple copies of her, she's going to kill them without questions asked. "Unless you suddenly dyed your hair in the last hour."

Jaenelle examines a strand of her hair, seeing that it's the same golden color it has always been. "My hair has always been this color," she says, somewhat bemused. "I couldn't imagine it any other color, really."

Nobody else in her biological family has hair this color but she supposes that is beside the point. She doesn't claim them anyway.

Johanna comes a bit closer, pressing into the girl's personal space probably a little more than is strictly comfortable. "Don't worry, you won't have to imagine it for long," she assures. "Once you see Katniss, you'll get to see the very picture of it. It'll be like a mirror of potential hairstyles." She smirks at her, easing past for dessert. "I'm Johanna," she introduces herself in passing.

There's something strange about this girl. Jaenelle doesn't detect any magic in her but in a way, she reminds her of Karla. Only with Karla, the snippiness is toward other people and not toward Jaenelle herself.

"Jaenelle," she offers, frowning a little. "There's someone who looks like me named Katniss? Is she a witch?"

Johanna snorts at the idea. "God, no," she says dismissively. "I mean, sometimes you would think that she puts off some kind of pheromone that makes people love her, despite the fact that she can be duller than dishwater, but there's no actual magic. She's just a real live girl," she mocks. "She's just trying to make life better for her District."

Her laugh is high-pitched and dismissive. "She's as stuck as the rest of us. Snow definitely would kill her if she went back."

"Is she a District Queen, then?" That makes sense even if nothing else this girl says did and maybe she just doesn't recognize the magic. It wouldn't be the first time.

"Which District?"

"She might as well be now, for all that people look up to her," Johanna mutters, but raises her brow as she looks at Jaenelle and thinks she's not a Capitol clone after all, then. "You really don't know about the districts, do you?"

"I know about districts but I suspect I need to know which territory you're talking about before I can speak more openly about them. I don't think you're talking about Kaeleer, where I'm from," Jaenelle says. She's still eating. While it might be rude, she's starving, and her magic will burn her right out if she doesn't get food in her system.

"Which district, then?"

"She's Twelve," is Johanna's response, picking off her plate as she slides to sit on top of the table to talk to Jaenelle. "I'm from Seven. Peeta's Twelve, too, and Finnick and Annie are Four. We're practically collecting here," she says, not mentioning Effie because Effie doesn't have a district, now does she?

"What's a Kaeleer?"

"It's the shadow realm," Jaenelle says. It's clear that the districts this girl means aren't the same districts she's used to as a territory queen.

"Which I am guessing doesn't mean anything to you, does it?"

"Apart from the fact it's a realm of shadows? No," Johanna clarifies with a nod. "Then again, this place isn't even remotely close to anything that I've dealt with before, so we can just add shadow realm to the list of things that are new and surprising."

"And, apparently, twins," Jaenelle adds. The idea of someone else with her face is intriguing. She bears no real resemblance to her sister but that had always been explained away in that Wilhelmina had a different mother. But, really, Jaenelle and Wilhelmina shared a father and it wasn't the one that claimed them - so there should have been some resemblance.

"What's she like? This Katniss?"

"Twins, for the most part. There's differences," Johanna says, having turned a sharp and assessing eye on the other woman, "but not as many as you'd expect." She gestures to a table, not wanting to stand and have this conversation when she's starved and should be getting back to garden service anytime. "You shouldn't ask my opinion. I don't faint in her wake like the rest of the world."

"She's well-loved, then?" Jaenelle doesn't know what that's like. Sure, she has her Court that loves her but she has never really felt like she belongs much of anywhere.

Jaenelle settles at the table, happy to take a seat for a little while.

"She's a beacon of hope." She's not sure if there's any love in there, because Johanna's not sure you can love anything that you elevate onto a pedestal the way that the districts often do with their victors. "She's liked. I think she's more of a symbol than a loved thing, though. If she were loved, they'd leave her alone."

"Sometimes it hurts to be needed," Jaenelle agrees. "There's love there, certainly, but there's love of an idea or of a body and not of the soul. I do not envy her that position. I can't imagine that anyone would."

"No, I'm definitely glad it's not me," Johanna is happy to say, given that while she doesn't mind the attention, she's not exactly a paragon of anything and wouldn't want to be treated that way. "So what's your story? What's this place you come from?" And why does she look exactly like Katniss, keeps repeating in her mind.

"I come from Kaeleer," Jaenelle explains. She doesn't know how else to describe Kaeleer to someone clearly unfamiliar with it and she struggles with the words. "It's a go-between between the living realm and the dark realm.There are shadows there and things unbelieved by those who live in Terrerille. It's...an unspoiled country. I would like to keep it that way."

"So, let me guess. You have your own questy mission," she deadpans with a huff, shaking her head. It figures. Maybe there's a factory out there producing little Katniss lookalikes who are destined to save the world. Thank god she's not responsible in any way for that. "Are you any good at it?"

"I try to be. Being strong doesn't necessarily mean I have any finesse, though," Jaenelle admits. "I'm still learning how best to do what needs to be done."

"You know how I know what has to get done? Whatever needs to happen to keep me alive." It's a fairly basic outlook on life, but as far as Johanna's concerned, it's what's kept her strong and keeping her chin up. "People can go fuck themselves. Strong? Strong means you're safe, alive, and sound."

"Not when you're a queen. You're responsible for more than just yourself." That much, Jaenelle had learned. She is still learning the ins and outs of navigating a court and she's still a bit hesitant as to whether or not she wants to establish a formal one for herself but she knows that part of being a queen is putting yourself between those that want to bring harm to your people or your lands.

"I couldn't abandon all that just to take care of myself."

"That's not the queen I'd want to be," Johanna replies, shrugging her shoulders. As far as she's concerned, her own well-being comes first and if her interests so happen to align with others (a whole nation or District's, in this case), then fine, lucky for all of them. "How noble of you," she notes, but it's far from a compliment. "Do they like you, at least?"

"Some do. Others see me as a threat," Jaenelle says, thinking of Dorothea. "They want to control me and use my power to do their bidding because they know I am far, far stronger than they are and, even better, I'm a symbol. Symbols can be very dangerous if used correctly."

Well, now, that's new.

"Powers?" That's something that they haven't exactly had it out about and now she raises her brow curiously. "Well, we don't have any of those," Johanna is happy to assure with a laugh and a scoff. "What kind of power are we talking about, here?"

Jaenelle is convinced that the people here must be completely cut off from the darkness and from that reservoir of power. She isn't and she folds her hands in front of her.

"I'm a healer and a queen and a powerful witch. It's something that's a great commodity where I'm from."

Johanna is a girl with an axe and some mental issues.

It's really not even close, but she doesn't feel like she ought to be less. Part of what's led her to survive is her sheer inability to go down without fighting and she's glad that she's standing here today. "Well, you're in the Nexus now and we don't exactly have any job postings for a queen."

"Being a queen isn't a job, it's what I am," Jaenelle says, tamping down her irritation. "It's my caste, it was what I was born to be. I couldn't change that no more than you could change your voice or your eyes or the way you walk. It's not a title."

"Well, don't worry, I don't think anyone's going to look at your blood and demand anything of you," Johanna says, something like frenzied delight still living in her voice. "You don't have to be a queen here, even if that's how you were born. Welcome to freedom."

"It's clear you don't have any desire to understand what I'm saying at all," Jaenelle says. She doesn't throw her hands up but it's a very near thing.

Johanna can't help her prideful little smirk at the comment. "Unless it has to do with me? Then no, I have none," she assures, having lived her very short and full life by that mantra. "Whatever keeps me alive is important. Other stuff? It's just other stuff."

Jaenelle arches a brow at that. "Alive? Is there danger here?" Sometimes danger isn't easy to see and sometimes it seems like it's wrapped up in something pretty that is supposed to be pleasant and good and turns out to be anything but. She's been eating with gusto but now she isn't so certain; even a Black Widow can't always tell if something's poison if she's not looking for it.

"The food is safe, isn't it?"

"Here? No," Johanna says, given that the worst thing that happens here is that room service ends up being a few minutes late. "If I ever wound up back home? Then you have no idea the shit I'd be in for," she laughs dully, given what she knows happens to her if she goes back.

"And the food is plenty safe. Promise," she says, in a way that's less than convincing.

Jaenelle pokes at her food for a moment, not entirely convinced. Still, she's seen the other woman eat her food and she seems just as suspicious as Jaenelle is. Maybe the food is safe.

"Where I come from, it isn't always smart to trust what's given to you. There's usually a nasty surprise attached."

"Yeah, that sounds right." Johanna trusted the food in the victor's village, but not much of actions. "Generally, it's people you have to watch out for, where I come from." It's why she doesn't have a family, it's why she doesn't trust anyone. She's a victor and they still took and took from her. There's no winning the Games, there's only survival.

"People too," Jaenelle agrees. "But I would much rather fight someone head on than have to wonder if I'm going to be killed by my food or drink or in my sleep."

"Or you could just not sleep." Johanna had tried that once and had wound up seeing all kinds of fun hallucinations everywhere she'd looked. She definitely isn't planning on trying that one again. "I don't think you'll get a taster around here, though, so you might have to take a chance and eat the food," she says, pointing with her fork to the plate.

"And hope the poison is something I can recognize," Jaenelle agrees. She isn't going to starve herself out of suspicion. There's no way she can access magic if she has nothing to fuel herself with.

"Sorry, I have just become very paranoid."

"As far as I'm concerned, it's the only way you stay alive," Johanna says, liking her new friend if paranoia is one of her steady companions. "Come on, eat up. I swear there's no poison and you'll need some energy if we're going to take you on a tour of this place."

Jaenelle goes back to her food, a little more trusting than before. She doesn't know if that's wise but she feels inclined to trust Johanna even if she's someone she doesn't know. Johanna had revealed some personal information and someone who is looking to hurt her wouldn't be so vulnerable, right?

"The food is really good, at least?"

"And best of it, it's free," Johanna says knowingly, seeing as free isn't that easy to come by, sometimes, and this food doesn't even come with the guilt of knowing it's paid for by the Capitol's salary.

"Free is good for the moment." Jaenelle has accounts set up in Kaeleer anywhere she wishes to go but she isn't sure if her gold marks are any good in this place. It seems...different, somehow, and until she knows the lay of the land or, at least, the currency in use, she thinks she should stick to free.

"Lodging is free too?"

"Everything is inexplicably free," Johanna assures, given that she's not sure how that makes any kind of sense, but here they are and no money is coming out of anyone's pockets. Don't ask her how it works, but it is something she could really get used to.

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