The Head of Apparel
This section is run by the Head of Apparel, an Art Gorgon. Everything they look at turns to art. They wear big mirrored circle shades. When they remove them, their eyes are pure white and blinding. The sun appears behind their head. Doves may be heard. Whoever they look at is instantly transformed into a gorgeous work of avant-guarde art.
- A living 2D mosaic, smashed into the floor. Can navigate 2D planes.
- A statue of glass, still alive and can move but easily broken.
- Jewels that quickly fall apart and scatter across the floor. Ruby lips, diamond eyes.
- A frozen marble sculpture with veins of black gold running through it.
- An abstract picasso-esque painting blasted onto the wall. Can navigate 2D planes.
- A living outfit, still sentient, can move but can do little without being worn. Wearable art.
They used to be the assistant to the old head of apparel, who was a Devil Wears Prada figure. They plotted against her and overcame her in a coup, transforming her into a living mosaic who now slides across the floors and walls in the dark places of the avenue, devouring consumers and plotting revenge.
They've been faking it until they make it for so long that they don't really know who they are anymore. They just keep going, burnt out, exhausted. How did they end up this way? They had all the warnings. Everyone told them about the rat race. The corporate machine. Now they're immersed in the rat race up to their neck. The machine got them in the end, and they are being processed. Nowhere to go but forward. Nothing to do but keep going.
I'm thinking their outfit is a bound demon, traitor to it's kind. The two are locked in a toxic relationship and the demon constantly pushes them to gain more and more power.