Noa Loxley and Clementine Fraser; the only people on this Earth who could coerce Errol into doing something he didn't want to do. Laboring? Painting? It was beneath him, and a completely unsatisfying method of making money. But, he knew this was something Noa enjoyed - a semblence of normalcy, a brief break from the Strays and what working with them entailed. He understood completely that if Noa had the option, she wouldn't be with the Strays but thanks to her status as a mutant - she had to make do with the cards life had dealt her.

In her heart, this life wasn't for her... but it was adapt or die. For Errol though, this was all he knew really. Almost as if he was bred for... the unsavoury lifestyle. Sired by a crime lord, then groomed to take over said crime lord's empire, it felt like this was some sort of destiny he couldn't escape. As if it was in his blood. Why not embrace it.

Regardless, as much as he hated this. Errol was more than happy to support his best friend. The shade wearing mutant stood in the doorway of the front door, watching as Noa received the cash for a job well done. He smirked to himself seeing the small amount of paint she'd accumulated on her clothes, always hands on she was. Errol had managed to avoid getting any paint on him luckily, simply due to putting in lackluster effort painting.

Errol backed out of the front door, turning to walk alongside Noa as she passed him, patting his back. He playfully nudged her with his elbow in return. Resting his hands in his pockets, he tilted his head in Noa's direction [color=fff200]"A woman after my own heart."[/color] he retorted following a snort at Noa's offer.

Errol's electrified yellow eyes peaked through his shades [color=fff200]"How much did you make anyway?"[/color] he pondered. He knew Noa was planning on splitting the cash with him but a hot dog would suffice, money... in this instance... wasn't an issue for him. The gesture of spending time with Noa was more important than the money in his eyes.

The sound of angered voices overlapping each other, with some amplified by megaphones caught the attention of the duo. Errol watched as Noa listend in to what was being said, assuming she was using one of her gifts to focus in on the words being used. Her demeanous shifted and the reason why was soon shared.

An anti-mutant protest was ahead of them. It was mutantphobia that tore him away from his mother - mutantphobia spread by his [i]own family[/i]. Once his grandparents had found out he was a mutant, they demanded that his mom get rid of him unless she'd be disowned too. He never blamed her, she did what she had to do and if she had chosen to keep Errol - she had no way of supporting both of them. Not in this economy, not in New York. She did the best she could in a shitty situation.

Regardless, anything mutantphobic was sure to trigger Errol. Forcing bad memories to bubble up to the surface, as well as strong feelings against [i]racist[/i] humans.

Noa attempted to get Errol to go another way, but her words fell on deaf ears. Not responding to her words, Errol followed the disgruntled and passionate voices spouting anti-mutant rhetoric.

[color=fff200]"[i]¿Quieres odiarme? Te daré una razón para odiarme.[/i]"[/color] Errol muttered angrily under his breath, small yellow electric sparks began to pulsate from his hands as he drew closer to the crowd.