Tori's relationship with technology was a very much so a love hate one. It was, on one hand, the source of all his paranoia. On the other hand, he had developed a sort of dependence on it. It was a necessary evil, and, as much Tori hated to admit it, functioning without it was something he was not good at. Actually, horrible is probably a better word for how he handles situations where he's cut off from it. 

In hindsight, maybe he should have kept his phone charged. 

As per usual, when the lights went off Tori had been sitting on his couch, laptop on the coffee table in front of him. Lucky for him, his mind hadn't been inside the machine when the power went. He didn't quite know what would have happened if he had been, but it was something Tori had no desire to experience. Once the initial freak out was over, his mind immediately went to "it's okay, you've still got your phone". Disappointment washed over his face when he realized the thing was completely dead. 

So he was left with two options. The first was sit in his dark room, waiting for the lights to come back on. Now, Tori was equipped to handle certain things. He knew how to fix the wifi when it went out and he could cook a mean pot of macaroni and cheese. Dealing with potentially horrifying things like having to sit alone in the dark, which anything could be hiding in, was not his forte. 

That left him with the other option of going and seeing what everyone else was doing. 

Clad in an oversized hoodie, shorts that were a length most mothers wouldn't approve of, and pastel blue socks that came to above his knees (all of which made him look a lot younger than he actually was), Tori managed to navigate out of his room. He could hear chatter, presumably coming from the main living room, and decided to make that his destination. He did live with some people that wear rather good at creating light. At least there would be comfort in that, even if he didn't necessarily interact with the other inhabitants of the house as often as he should. 

About halfway down the hall he tripped over something, and smacked his head off the ground. Rolling over and into the fetal position, clutching his head as he did so, a stream of curses came from Tori's mouth. And maybe, just maybe, as he bit down on his lip to distract himself from the pain in his head, a few tears escaped. Not that he would ever actually tell anyone that. No, whoever had left whatever it was he has tripped over sitting in the middle of the hallway was never going to hear the end of it. (Upon later inspection, Tori would realize it wasn't actually something he'd tripped over, but a lack of something. That something being part of the floor.)