It’s the pit of Summer, which means humid weeks of midday naps, each ending with the sensation of my brain resetting. A clear dream can be picked apart. You can log its sequence and imagery with some certainty, pick apart its meanings. The frayed ones, the scattered bits of dream, are much tougher to piece together. They escape you, bobbing in a darkened void like blinking eyes hiding in the veil of a starry sky.
In The Dreams in the Peacock House, maybe you are still sleeping. Maybe you have many eyes to see through the darkness that surrounds you. You might be Argus, the mythological bodyguard of Hera, whose many eyeballs made him difficult to outflank. You might be retracing his steps. You may just be a butterfly. This short but decadent text adventure is hiding many secrets, among them are what exact kind of game you’re even playing.
Awakening in a small room you are presented with a mirror, a door and a hammer. Doing the obvious thing (smashing them all to bits), unfurls a larger, darkened estate, situated in a quiet bog like a centuries old hunting lodge. Throughout you will come across abandoned diaries, seemingly penned by Argus in a fit of loathing.
What you’re really seeking are Argus’ eyes, which will gain you access to the mysterious Sanctum Sanctorum a short path down from the manor. Solve puzzles to find each eye, but secure them at the risk of a very viciously lucid dream.
The dream reveals that there’s more to this text adventure than what the keyboard can offer. You are placed in a labyrinth of bright EGA colors and glitched vapory monsters. Hit a dead end and be confronted by the minotaur, who will sit you down to watch a sitcom rendition of Argus’ memories. From there Peacock House can go in all kinds of directions, from a tarot reading, to a Kid Pix style paint sim, to a turn-based RPG battle against your most toxic traits.
The puzzles are never too challenging and, like most text adventures, you’ll find yourself rephrasing an action here and there. But the teased, dreamlike logic and presentation of Peacock House are a midsummer treat. A twilight space where reals and unreals blend. Plus the game said my portrait of Gumby was gallery-worthy.