#(raz walking along an upside-down staircase) the vibes here suck

[2hoothoots]

i've seen a couple of posts recently talking about Thorney Towers and its bizarre geometry - how it's the only real-world location we see with gravity-defying environments and Escheresque architecture. here's what's always been my interpretation: the inside of the asylum doesn't literally look like that, but it's a representation of how Raz, with his extrasensory awareness, perceives it.

there are a couple of thing in the games that imo make it explicit we're seeing everything filtered through Raz's point of view. there's gameplay stuff, like how things he's focusing on will get a green glow around them; and then there's stuff like the bit at the end of Rhombus of Ruin, implying that the Hand of Galochio is, at least sometimes, something only he can see. we can also see ripples in the air where two people are talking telepathically or where there are stray thoughts, auras around certain characters, and so on - things that (presumably) aren't visible to the regular, non-psychic person.

i've always figured that this extends to the way he perceives the rest of the world, too. the upper levels of Thorney Tower are twisted, mind-bending, impossible spaces that could never plausibly exist in real life. to me, this level is more of a visual metaphor than anything else. it's twisted and warped the same way our own perception can be warped by strong feelings, like how a sense of claustrophobia can make it feel like the walls are squeezing down on you, or vertigo can make heights seem to stretch and spin.

(screenshots taken from a Let's Play by Materwelons)

there's a long-standing trope of psychics/empaths/mediums being able to read the 'vibes' of places they're in, especially places where horrible things have happened. real-world asylums and sanitariums have been the sites of untold horrors against their 'patients'; confinement and restraints, electroshock therapy, lobotomies... it's easy to imagine Thorney Towers as a place suffused with suffering, the anguish of its old inhabitants seeping into it like a stain, lingering like ghosts even after the building itself has been all but abandoned.

what does that feel like, if you're someone who's sensitive to it? how does it warp your perception of the space around you? the twisted interiors of Thorney Towers harken back to the impossible geometry of some of the mental worlds, and i think that's deliberate. to me, we're seeing a blending of both the physical surroundings, an old building in disrepair; and the metaphysical, the echoes of old feelings that still haunt the place, the way it must have looked to some of its inhabitants - warped in a way that's upsetting and almost incomprehensible.

i don't have an explanation for the pit of radioactive goo at the bottom, though. if anyone has any ideas about the goo let me know i guess