#disco elysium writing

[de-fanzine-cpr-pale]

PALE_ HAS BEEN OFFICIALLY RELEASED!

Totally free to download, over 100+ pages of fanworks!

DOWNLOAD HERE!!

Link takes you to an itch.io page; there are two versions to download, an HQ one that is about 1 GB in size and a lower quality one about 200 mb in size. There is also a lyrics booklet with the lyrics for everyone's song their pieces were based off!

Note: this zine contains spoilers for Disco Elysium. A Content Warnings list is provided on page 6!

This not-for-profit zine aims to create a showcase of the Disco Elysium fandom's talents! Featuring over 100 pages of original fanworks each centered around separate song lyrics picked by the artist, totally free to download.

The idea is that through celebrating this game, we keep its world and its characters and its story alive. With our love for Disco Elysium, we save it from dissolving into the Pale. We save it from being forgotten, from being erased from memory. We come together and through our love for the game, we preserve it.

This is why we are known as the Counter-Pale Resistance. This is why the title of this zine is Pale_, struck-through.

As the lines of an old song go, "All of this belongs to you. All of this belongs to me. All of this belongs to us. And it goes on endlessly."

Thank you to our contributors for joining the resistance!

Please check it out; everyone did such an amazing job!!!!! Super, super excited to share; it's been a long time coming!

Special thanks to Jay @starspaces for her help answering all my questions on running a zine! I would not have been able to do this without her.

Playlists and the Table of Contents with a list of contributors, their work titles, and their songs under the cut!

Note, some songs may not work in some countries.

YouTube (best version):

Spotify (missing some songs):

[lilyminer]

Hey y’all! Like I’ve been alluding to recently I have been writing a KimHarry fic which is basically just a hypothetical I’ve been thinking of about the game used to do a bit of a character study.

Check it out if that seems interesting!

[dearratthey]

“You’re consumed by the memory of fruit and candy. Can’t you see we need you here?”

His stern thick voice shot a dagger into the Double Yefreitor’s throat. He opened his mouth but nothing came from it but the stale rotten scent of cavities soaked in cheap liquor. Him and Jean held eye contact for a long quiet moment; mental tug of war.

The younger man threw his hands into the air and spun to face away from his partner, hands eventually moving to cover his face. An exasperated dry sigh leaves his throat. His shoulders fall like cinderblocks dropped onto them. His body ached all over. Lack of sleep and proper meals starting to take their toll on the satellite officer’s body. Harry stayed standing, unmoving, and watched his partner stand opposite to him behind his desk. His pale eyes scanned the sea of paperwork stacked and scattered across the mahogany desk. Sticky notes posted in almost every clear space with quickly written harsh reminders. The Detective watched as a few papers quietly floated down onto the carpet.

Their job was not an easy one to put it simply. Precinct 41 covered the greater Jamrock area and between the high crime rate and understaffing of officers, they were doing the work of 3 precincts alone. The distant ring of the phones constantly purr on the other side of the door followed by the robotic scripted opening by one of the radio receivers. Another murder. Another domestic dispute. Another OD. Another…. Always something. Even now Harry could feel Jean thinking that this was a big waste of time and he should be knee deep in organizing his case files. A strong pang of guilt pierced his heart. He wondered if Jean felt it too.

“Look Harry…” He spoke finally, and although his accent was coarse, he was softer now. “You’re a great officer and a better partner but I can’t keep doing this.”

Turning to face the disheveled man again, the satellite officer grabs two handfuls of paper and shakes them towards Harry. “I’m losing my fucking mind.”

“It’s Hell without her, Vic.”

“Well it’s Hell without you.”

Jean’s face crumbled with tension as he searched the other, looking for any answers that would help this. He wanted to fix this. He wanted his partner back. His mentor. The man he admires crumbled into a disgusting pile of garbage and incompetence by a woman.

“Six years, Harry. Six years. When will you stop killing yourself over her?.”

Harry could almost smile. Jean has always been blunt when it comes to emotion like this. He’s felt it all and he’s survived. Harry couldn’t be so lucky. Feels so deeply with no way to contain it and process it just a disaster contained in a jar that’s been rolled down stone steps. He knew the younger man was right, it’s been far too long to be lamenting over young love gone wrong but every night she found him in his dreams and every night he begged her to stay and every night she left him again. The ouroboros of love and heartbreak over and over and over like an old skipping VHS tape.

But the Double Yefreitor could not muster a response that would make his other feel better so he said nothing at all. So Officer Vicquemare gives up. There is an understanding between them that’s indecipherable to everyone else. Not a lot of conversation but they both know where each of them stands and the stakes. Comes in handy in dangerous cases.

“We have a case in Martinaise. Dead militia officer hanging publicly behind a Hostel building. We’re making the trip tomorrow.” Jean tosses a file into Harry’s hands and begins to leave the room, pausing at the last moment but keeping his gaze forward out the door. “Don’t let me down again, Harry. I don’t know if I can take any more of this.”

And he left. Harry stayed standing in the center of the office, feeling the smooth Manila folder in his hands. Somewhere a body sways in a tree and two children lob stones at it. A woman with a thousand yard stare sits in her room smoking a cigarette and watching her window glass being replaced. A street backed up with lorries and angry workers. Harry grips the case debrief tighter and takes a deep and determined breath. Something is coming and this time he wants to be ready. Although, everyone knows disco beats determination.

[sad-pathetic-shrimp]

hihi so, i made a custom disco elysium skill set for my oc William and i wrote the church shivers interaction but its him and his own world and lore

update: the Eugene version is out! it has more lore if you're interested

enjoy

SHIVERS - In an apartment building complex near the borders of Voltarulia, a lone man lays in his bed, seconds earlier he was in a dreamless sleep. The wind rattles the leafs outside. He rolls in his bed and begins to dream.

YOU - ..It feels cold.

SHIVERS - I AM THE COUNTRY.

I AM VOLTARULIA.

YOU - What do you mean?

SHIVERS - I AM THE LAND. I AM THE RISING SUN. I AM MOONSHINE. I AM THE BORDERS AND EVERYTHING WITHIN THEM.

I AM THE STREETS, THE HOMES, THE BATTLEFIELDS, THE CEMETERIES.

I AM THE CHURCHES. I AM THE TICKING CLOCKS, THE RINGING BELL TOWERS.

I AM EVERYTHING WITHIN.

YOU - How are you speaking to me?

SHIVERS - THROUGH THE LEAFS, THE WIND, THE DREAMS. I AM THE AIR THAT YOU BREATHE. I AM EVERYWHERE.

YOU - Why speak to me?

SHIVERS - YOU ARE AN AGENT OF VOLTARULIA'S MILITARY AND SECURITY DEPARTMENT. YOU HAVE WORKED MANY LONG SLEEPLESS NIGHTS.

I HAVE SEEN YOU. I'VE SEEN YOU WITH THEM, AND I'VE SEEN YOU WITHOUT THEM. I'VE SEEN YOU ON MY HILLS, BEFORE THE SUNRISE. I'VE SEEN YOU WITH HIM, AND I HAVE SEEN YOU ALONE.

FIGHT OR FLIGHT - Something isn't right. There has to be a reason behind this.

YOU - Why are you speaking to me?

SHIVERS - I HAVE SEEN YOU STRUGGLE AND STUMBLE, I HAVE SEEN THE BLOOD YOU SPILT IN THE NAME OF THE COUNTY. IT IS NOT WORTH IT, IT IS NOT WORTH THE LIVES LOST. YOU ARE BURNING, THEY ALL ARE.

DEEP DOWN, YOU KNOW.

MEMENTO MORI - You know.

YOU - But.. why now? i'm already ashes.

SHIVERS - THERE IS STILL HOPE FOR YOU, NO MATTER HOW LITTLE. YOU CANNOT QUIT BY REGULAR MEANS, BUT YOU CAN ESCAPE.

BE VIGILANT, BE SHARP. I AM SORRY. I LOVE YOU.

[insulindiancorvid]

off day

[rynli]

[jamtamart]

the last disco

[brainstirfry]

REACTION SPEED [Heroic: failure] - a single ravioli, damp from the water, still pleasantly steaming, lands with a defeated slap, on the linoleum floor. You see it happen, watch it flip through the air, like an Olympic bronze off the high-dive, or a suicidal veteran of war. you feel yourself shout a "No!", but it is too late. there, the ravioli, impossibly, lays limp. FORSAKEN RAVIOLI - Why, it thinks, why me? For all the time I was grown and processed then crafted and for all the time I have waited for the only purpose which I was made for. To be cast so suddenly, so errantly, into the realm of the beyond? Beyond savior. DRAMA - And here you stand, clad like a captain with your wooden spoon, watching as an honorable soldier, nay, a man, lies without your hand to aid him, on the kitchen floor.

VOLITION - you must act, now! first it must be picked up, then its fate can be decided. COMPOSURE - Its fate is the trash. AUTHORITY - Its fate is the trash. YOU - You pick up the ravioli, it is hot, nearly still boiling, gushing steam and hot pasta blood down your hand. It hurts, but standing here, there is nowhere else for it. PERCEPTION - It looks fine... LOGIC - Don't do this. SHIVERS [Heroic: Success] - Somewhere southeast of here, perhaps hundreds of miles, grain sprouts in a field, rich wheat, and butternut squash, only an acre over. The wind whistles through the fields, running like gleeful children through the tiny, green plants. Some will be eaten by birds, worms, or moles, but some will reach high into the sky, where they will be plucked and ground into pasta dough. You have seen the birthplace of this soldier. It is humble, a beautiful childhood, and so, so long ago. An entire pasta-lifetime, now. FORSAKEN RAVIOLI - I thought I had finally made it. And with my brethren... YOU - You look at the bowl, the rest of the ravioli, steaming in mournful, pyrrhic celebration. My company... EMPATHY - This ravioli could be you. You can't give up on it now. Not because of your own mistake. AUTHORITY - This is not what a dignified man would do. send him off and mourn, perhaps, but do not spend one moment more considering his limp, cooling corpse. DRAMA - Where has your heart gone, O Honorable One? Authority - … EMPATHY - the greatest service you could do for this little soldier, and for all those beyond you that forged him, is to eat him. What else is rightfully to be done? VISUAL CALCULUS - It was on the floor for less than 4.7 whole seconds. ENCYLOPEDIA - most forms of bacterium are able to jump, especially to wet materials, in about 1.2- PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT - any residue on your kitchen floor may well be material which was once already in your stomach. CONCEPTUALIZATION - if you think about it, that means you've already kind of eaten the ravioli.

INLAND EMPIRE - From the Floor, Of the Floor, To the Floor. To be, or not to be, one with this eternal cycle? ENDURANCE - Anything the floor could not contain, you could digest. (with VOLITION) We are iron. HALF LIGHT - Bite into its soft, warm flesh. EMPATHY - Give it peace. ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Eat the floor-violi, pasta slut! YOU - weeping, bring the ravioli to your lips, and then, impossibly, with infinite mercy, love, bring it into you. It tastes fantastic. You would have never know it was on the floor at all. You can feel the hum of satisfaction, the glory of it in your lungs, swelling to fill you more than even a pasta-feast could. This is the mercy you wish your God could cast on you, when you fall. KIM KITSURAGI - "Harry,"

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Sunrise, Parabellum.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[cryptiidcrowe]

“ sunrise, parabellum ” after disco elysium

you ever get brain worms so bad about a game you have to write a poem about it. anyway

(plain text version of all 3 readings below the cut!)

harry: tasting the ash / that coated the inside of / your lungs on my tongue is / the closest i’ll ever get to worship / i see them now, blooming brighter / than the butts of our cigarettes / i want to sink to my knees, beg forgive- / ness, beg oh god will i ever be the same / after this? i’ve been suffocating in smoke / since sweet oblivion stole the sunrise / this quiet communion will kill us still / in time, i promise; until then ruin / me with your breath, let the golden / glow of your divine innocence / decay in my lungs — i reach out / hold the fragile fluttering cage of / your life and i know, i know / how easily it'd crumple / if i just close my fist

kim: in your absence, for all / my life, i was told to believe / “blasphemy”; but this will always be / nothing more than watching strangers / living more than me, discarding more / oh, my dear, how little faith i held in you and / me, forgive all my doubt in your hurricane- / self, when your trembling hands hold mine / unknowing, uncaring of all that has come / i realize i never could have predicted you / in the face of something far grander / my lungs long decayed, you revive / sunrises whose brilliance eclipses the / corrupted and cursed, yet still forgiving / over and over and over / faith be damned, i want to guard / whatever it is we’re building / so i promise like a hymn / i will trust you.

together: tasting the ash in your absence, for all / that coated the inside of my life, i was told to believe / your lungs on my tongue is “blasphemy”; but this will always be / the closest i’ll ever get to worship nothing more than watching strangers / i see them now, blooming brighter living more than me, discarding more / than the butts of our cigarettes oh, my dear, how little faith i held in you and / i want to sink to my knees, beg forgive me, forgive all my doubt in your hurricane- / ness, beg oh god will i ever be the same self, when your trembling hands hold mine / after this? i’ve been suffocating in smoke unknowing, uncaring of all that has come / since sweet oblivion stole the sunrise i realize i never could have predicted you / this quiet communion will still kill us in the face of something far grander, / in time, but until then, please, ruin my lungs long decayed, you revive / me with your breath, let the golden sunrises whose brilliance eclipses the / glow of your divine innocence corrupted and cursed, yet still forgiving / decay in my lungs — i reach out over and over and over / hold the fragile fluttering cage of faith be damned, i want to guard / your life and i know, i know whatever it is we’re building / how easily it’d crumple so i promise like a hymn / if i just close my fist i will trust you.

[galedekarios]

DISCO ELYSIUM (2019), ZA/UM - [2/?]

[unitedstates0fdakota]

What the fuck do you mean you can ask Kim if u can work on his car with him and depending on how much u geeked out about the car beforehand he has varying levels of enthusiasm about the idea

That last one tho like bro is in love. U charmed him so much with ur car knowledge that he’s actually entertaining the idea of letting u near his car. That’s next level dude

[themayorautumn]

sorry for the whiplash

[mrtequilasunset]

Unprovoked

[rynli]

every binary man does this

part 1 part 2

[jamtamart]

kisses kisses kisses

text from the image:

DOLORES DEI - "you don’t hate me harry, you hate yourself. you don’t even remember me, not really. not after this last major party. this. this is just a reality you made up so you could escape the real, cold, poor, much more lonely one your sad excuse of a body inhabits. I’m you, harry. every word i say, every thing i know. it’s just what you think. what you see in the mirror. I’m in Mirova now for god’s sake! happy, and loved. not this. Whatever this is- what you fantasize about, harry, it’s not love. It is fear, and hate. horror you can’t even remember. i will follow you until you kill yourself again. and again. and again. and you will. and i know this because i am you." "an innocence, a lost love, a war criminal, a whore. anything you want me to be. i will embody and you will mourn, just so you don’t have to face the walking corpse which is yourself. But you secretly love this, don’t you? You fetishise the pain you fester in to avoid the responsibility for the pain you’ve caused others."

YOU - "but… I thought-"

DOLORES DEI - "No. You’re done talking, harry. It’s my turn It will always be my turn now. This is the final dream, remember? A dream that keeps looping, forever. A dream you killed yourself to get away from. Try and kiss me, beg me to not leave for the aerodrome, bask in the light of video revachol. It will not change anything. Not now, not ever"