Erica sank back forward, hands at her temples again and an expression of concentration. Had she wanted to look like thinking didn’t take any effort, she probably would have managed to, but at that particular moment, she didn’t want to. Let Noa know she was doing her best, they all were. “To tell you the truth, New York appears to be working better than California. Probably also because both PROTECT and Nexus are based here as well. So at the moment, it doesn’t look like we should be moving on anytime soon. But in general, I think one of the strongest points we have at our disposal is flexibility, and that includes the ability to move camp should the situation require that.” She looked up again to conclude: “So no it’s not in the books yet, but I can’t exclude the possibility of us ever having to move.” She clicked her fingers. “It’s brilliant, exactly. The tool of those at a material disadvantage. Seems like it was just fashioned for us, doesn’t it? That’s why I think we should get on that, and assign that task to someone who doesn’t need major instructions.”
Erica swallowed as she tried to get the nagging feeling of inadequacy under control, a feeling of how she had been doing so, so much to make them believe in her, had tried so hard to make them see that she believed in them and only thought of their best only for it all to be in vain. But in a family, you didn’t voice that sort of thing. In a family, trust was implicit and innate, and Erica would do her best to foster that trust. “I’m glad you came to me with that concern but let me restate that there are no grounds for it. Where do I go if I’m not here or in California, hu? I understand that there are no alternatives for many of us, and there aren’t for me either.”
Responding to Noa’s comments about Carmen was harder, and Erica was silent for what she felt was too long a time. Maybe that was what happened if you had never really learned how to communicate in a real family - with the foster families, she had never really cared either way if a wrong comment would lead her to be expelled. They had all been as bad as one another. “Well, to begin with, I think it’s worth remembering that Famine unfortunately had to bear the brunt of too many things. Which was not fair on mine or Piper’s part, I admit that. But maybe she knew that it wasn’t anyone else? Maybe she, much like I do at this particular moment, felt she could trust you with that? When the pressure gets too much, everyone has to let go of things, even if it’s just for a very short moment. We’re all human..” she had to giggle at how that had slipped out, “….somehow.” There were some actual concerns in there though, things she should adress. Primarily about the communication culture. She’d need to be circumspect about it, but there was no alternative to building on their little family here. There hadn’t been in many years. “I will talk to Famine about that though, about how you feel you can’t come to her. That shouldn’t be happening. Take it as a sign of her trust in you though - things get to all of us, and everyone copes with that in different ways.” She paused, hoping for her next words to sound as genuine as she meant them to be. “Thank you for telling me all this.”
Trust. Noa hadn’t thought about this, about the fact that Famine might have thought to trust Noa with her... lack of confidence. However, it was a very disruptive thing to do. No one wants to pull back the curtain and see how they kill the chicken, they only want to see the cooked chicken on their plate. There was a time and a place for that kind of conversation and that wasn’t it. Noa still felt like she was getting to know these horsewomen and that just didn’t sit well with her. She would have liked to only see them as a figure for a while longer, but she supposed that wasn’t possible. But yikes did that reveal they needed some cleaning up to do. “I do get it. I’ve been in high stress and high pressure situations, but it’s not healthy to just unleash on someone. Although I wouldn’t say I’m the poster child for doing things in a healthy manner...” she trailed off, averting her eyes from Erica. She definitely did not do things in a healthy way. Noa held in a lot of what happened as a soldier and what happened as a prisoner. She felt that if it was bottled up, untouched, it couldn’t hurt her anymore. But boy did she continue to feel the ramifications of her past and she was not aware. Remaining undiagnosed, believing that you can just control the symptoms, it was denial at its best. If no one else notices but me, nothing is wrong. Everything is okay. And Noa longed for the days when everything was okay.
“I just want what’s best,” Noa assured, looking back at Erica, hoping she believed her. “I don’t want to see any of you fall apart. You’re all strong enough for this. I know that.” She didn’t want them to fall and for the movement to fall with them. She knew of Christopher and his desire to lead and she wasn’t too sure about him, but after seeing Famine--Carmen, whatever she wanted to be called now, after seeing how she reacted, well, maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing to put someone with more mental stability. God knows Noa would never be in any condition to lead any form of group the same way she did years ago. It just wasn’t in her. It was gone... like a lot of things she once was were gone. All that was left was her attempting to pick up her own pieces, but even if she put herself back together, she wouldn’t want to be the same. Then again, is that what she wanted, to be the same person she was those many years ago? Someone who is willing to go to war? It was disgusting. “Thanks for listening,” Noa was also appreciative that Erica was willing to take her issues seriously. She could have just laughed it off or made Noa feel like she couldn’t criticize the leaders, the latter is what she was most worried about, that all three of them would become unapproachable. She was glad that wasn’t the case.
“I need to ask one question though,” Noa squinted her eyes slightly as she looked at Erica, knowing this one wasn’t on the serious side, but it felt dumb to ask. “She kind of made it seem like she didn’t like to be called Famine, which was weird. I just thought that was what we called you, like a nickname, not necessarily as a figurehead. So, I guess my question is, what do you guys prefer? I find it kind of weird to call you buy your real names.” She chuckled softly at what it reminded it her of. “It’s like calling your teacher by their first name. It’s just... weird.” Noa saw like a sign of respect almost, not something to separate between a horsewoman and a member of Rogue.