get ready for a novel, guys. I am the master of way-too-descriptive writing
Tori was overcome by a curious warmth that left her head swimming with visions, visions of an ending where she could finally be with... wait, what?
Everything was a cold, icy blue (Glacia's favourite color, actually) for a few moments, and suddenly everything changed.
Tori stood, clutching an umbrella in one hand and a large wheeled suitcase in the other, on a busy street as people passed through torrential rain and the blue-tinted fog at the edges of her vision. The smell of dust, car exhaust and who knows what else assaulted her nose. In the distance stood a skyscraper that seemed to stand out from the high-rise buildings around her. She could somehow see that it was built out of pieces of broken mirrors, jutting out at random angles. The top of the tower reached past the swirling grey clouds, and there were neon lights running up and down the sides- like the tangle of neon surrounding a casino, there was a constantly changing cacophony of painful colors that broke through the light blue haze.
If a person passing her on the street acknowledged the building, it was with a confused or irritated tone. The area around the building was grey through and through, and the people reflected that... everyone except her.
Tori now looked down at herself and saw that she was wearing the outfit she wore the day she moved into the big city. A bright orange dress that went just below her knees with lace at the hem, white gathered sleeves and a loose waist. A short-sleeve, cropped lace jacket in a pastel yellow on top. A pair of white light up sneakers with purple laces. A necklace with a small bottle of black ink as a pendant.
The umbrella she held was transparent with pastel pink, orange and yellow flowers printed on it, mostly at the center. Looking up, Tori could clearly see the rain assaulting it from above.
Her suitcase was a deep, rich purple that barely showed through all the patches she'd sewn on it. The wheels, handle and other plastic components were white and her name was written on the handle in a metallic silver marker. All in all, compared to the greyness she seemed to shine like a miniature sun.
Strengthening her resolve, Tori began to move towards the neon mirror building, suitcase in tow, and as she stood before it and looked up as far as she could see, she still seemed to glow yellow and orange beside the skyscraper.
She looked through the stained glass door that depicted two flashily (but modestly) dressed women beckoning the onlooker into the building. The lobby was color everywhere, populated by people wearing outfits as bright as Tori's.
Walking in, she had a sense that something was going to happen.
Then she immediately walked into another girl.
She slowly looked up at the person she bumped into, trying to avoid eye contact.
Sickly pale skin.
White hair with blue tips.
Electric blue eyes.
Pastel blue crop top and shorts, white rain boots with blue light up heels, clear vinyl rain jacket, white-and-black checked canvas tote that could carry a horse.
A necklace that probably carries 90% of the world's population of dead starfish.
A plethora of bangles with cowrie shells inlaid in them.
She opened her mouth to say something, then shook her head and looked at Tori apologetically.
headcanon that Tori has never grown out of light-up sneakers and when she sees a pair she's like a 5-year-old in a toy store