Return to Ducky Darkness (not an existential novella about Stoke-on-Trent... unless you want it to be.)

Coming back for another dip into Pools today, with some shots from Chapter 0. Where chapter 6 lost me a bit with its sudden shift to a more chaotic atmosphere, this epilogue/prologue/is there a word for something that feels like it serves both purposes at once? really delivered the goods with building upon the particular atmosphere of the earlier parts of the game - it's eerie, beautiful, tense, unmooring, melancholy, and there are ducks. The ducks are essential.

The environment design in this maze is superb and there were a few more moments that reminded me a bit of Silent Hill 4; particularly the opening in the train station, the illogical exterior of the block of flats and the spinning contraption, which looks a bit like the big metal effort in the pool of blood at the end. Ah, memories... (I mean SH4 has a lot to offer, and I will readily go to bat for it, but the final boss fight technically puts you under a time constraint and anyone who knows me can attest just how much I fucking detest doing things under a time limit. Respect my glacial pace or expect to get a railroad spike jammed in your eye. Just sayin'.)

Where this maze in particular stands out is in the secret paths, as we're treated to more vast, serene, temple-like areas, complete with minimalist drone music. These chambers bring us more of the hushed, awe-inspiring moments that the game does so well, but here they feel all the more significant and moving, with the rest of the game and knowing how it ends, built up behind them. It's a difficult feeling to pin down and put into words, to say it feels spiritual isn't quite accurate, but that's the nearest word I can find. These environments manage to feel poetic and impactful, despite being eerily still and lifeless. It's beautifully done.

To sum up, Pools overall does a lovely job of capturing the specific array of feelings you get from liminal spaces, a convincing feeling of dream logic and a little shade of weird fiction for good measure (the marble people reminded me a fair bit of The Mask by Robert W. Chambers.) It achieves a lot with the simplest of mechanics - all that is expected of you is to explore, observe and navigate - and it maintains a compelling atmosphere of mystery, occasionally undercut, just enough that it doesn't derail the mood, by what appears to be an otherworldly cabal of rubber duckies. On a personal level, it brought some genuine awe and wonder back into my day, to break though the haze of being tired and jaded all the time, and I really appreciate that about it.

So, onto more of these pictures... 

This area made me think of the album art for the Chevelle album, Vena Sera, for anyone else who remembers that. Also, this has come up in a couple of earlier chapters in the game but being able to wander through optical illusions like this just makes me happy; it's a delightful creative touch.

 

Finishing up by wading through a progressively more flooded hotel - Andrew Cronshaw would be proud. Joking aside, the rising water and listing buildings, gradually catching up to us as we go, make for some genuinely moving environmental storytelling. The more temple-like areas have a feeling of resignation and letting go about them, as we see the more commonplace environments being washed away... or maybe I'm reading too much into it.