#martinaise

[stackofsnakes]

I want a game that uses Musikantenstadl Alps' same insanely well crafted narrative system and wonderful writing...

...but instead of a young witch solving the disappearance of her neighbor's cat, it's about some grungy, old guy trying to solve the murder of a hanged man in an economically depraved distric at the brink of class war. You could call it Funk Nirvana or something

[robiscuit]

I've played this game three times now and wanted to create some fanart of one of my favourite characters, Martiniase.

[worlds-end-discotheque]

This isn’t a fully finished thought-project yet so please bear with me but I’m pretty sure Cuno is the one paying the bills for the de Ruyter apartment.

Or at least he’s trying to.

When you go into Cuno’s apartment, the first thing you realize is the chain and the warning about the electricity. From what we know about how Cuno protects his shack (and the state of his inebriation-comatose father) we can safely assume that Cuno’s the one who chains the door closed whenever he leaves. Obviously, no one in Martinaise would want to leave their home open for any reason, but the apartments clearly have deadbolts installed in the doors— so the chain is an extra measure. Cuno can’t have anything being stolen, even taking the extra effort beyond confidence in his own intimidation to chain it up.

The apartment has two rooms: Uuno’s bedroom, and the living room. Uuno’s bedroom consists primarily of the bed, the clothes line, presumably a dresser or some end table-like surfaces. Plenty of room for his substances and shit.

The living room has the sofa, which is clearly covered in Cuno’s clothing and a makeshift sleeping setup. The risqué pinup on the wall is basically confirmation that this is Cuno’s “space,” not something that he and his dad alternate or share. The L-Couch is Cuno’s bed, bedroom, and dresser, effectively.

Which leads us to the tiny desk. The items on the desk are minimal, but crucial: Cuno’s speed with the straw, Cuno’s textbook and homework, a lamp, the stack of bills, and an open phone book.

We’ve established already that Cuno and his father do not share space. Cuno is already a territorial kid, established by his limited safe zones in his own home. He wouldn’t leave his damn homework out somewhere where his dad could access it; the fact that the homework exists means that beneath his attitude, Cuno clearly has a deep level of care for his schoolwork and at least a desire to complete it. With how terrified he is of his father, there’s no way in hell Cuno would leave his schoolwork out in a place that his father could damage it or get angry for it. Which essentially confirms that the desk is Cuno’s space only.

The speed has its little straw, making it convenient to sip on consistently while doing work at the desk. (I do this with my water tumbler.) especially if you’re at the desk for a long time. With the open phone book, it’s clear that Cuno is at least trying to find the numbers for the companies that the bills are coming from. It’s not just a pile of mail on the desk— he’s doing research into it. Gathering phone numbers to take outside to one of the payphones. The desk is organized, business-like, unlike anything Cuno is— except for how he deals.

Which leads me to my last bit. Cuno’s insistence on selling you shit. Obviously, the best way for this kid to maintain a steady supply for his own addiction is to be a dealer. However, for a 12-year-old boy with a substance addiction in the world of DE where there’s nothing else to do, that level of self-control is absurdly high. There’s a meticulousness to it that betrays a primary aspect of Cuno’s approach: business. Cuno isn’t doing it for popularity, for “cool” points, and if his focus was only his own addiction then he would likely just steal them, take it all for himself. He’s not supplying his dad, that’s for sure. On top of that, he’s got a side hustle selling clothing and other crap he picks up, enough to try and pitch it to Pigs— repeatedly. There’s a lot to buy off Cuno, and it’s the one thing he repeatedly brings up in dialogue options, aside from insults. He wants you to know he’s willing to do business. He needs the money. Because the bills are stacking up, his dad could die any minute, and now he’s got Cunoesse too. (It’s not confirmed if she stays in the apartment with him, and I’m inclined to think not, considering the chain, his fear of her too and the fact that she stands on the other side of the fence than him— there’s a special separation there. There’s also no trace of Cunoesse-noted belongings nor a second space to sleep indicated on the couch; shivers, empathy, none of the skills speak up when inside the apartment about anyone but Cuno and his dad. At the same time, this is again unconfirmed).

I lost what I was talking about here, but the point is. Cuno breaks my heart and I want to adopt and take care of him so badly. It’s one thing to be a delinquent kid, it’s another to be a 12-year-old delinquent kid trying to pay your own damn bills in Martinaise. Fuck, man. I love this kid so much. He breaks my heart.

As much as I yap about my old man yaoi, I think Cuno is my favorite character in DE. He’s just… I need to take care of him. God help me. I wanted to kill his dad so badly. Sigh.

Anyways. That was my thought project. Thought Cabinet just adopted Cunology.

[3rd-world-enby]

my favorite bois

this one is from my main account on instagram 👍

[mapping-elysium]

Postcards

Le Jardin '21

This laminated post card offers a glimpse across the river. A little more than a decade after the war, the eastern bank is already fully renovated. The hillsides are lush with gardens and residences, someone's parked a small beige airship by the fountain. This postcard will sell for a pretty penny.

Grand Couron '37

This postcard depicts an ill-advised residential area overlooking the Jamrock Quarter. 13-story buildings line the hillside like sarcophagi, an ominous fog already rising from behind. These are the last boom years -- in '39 the project fails catastrophically, leaving behind an opiate and hepatitis B infested slum.

Martinaise '98

A faded picture postcard from the end of the last century shows Martinaise as was before the Revolution. It's the height of summer, Rue de Saint-Ghislaine is teeming with parasol-wielding bourgeoisie and Wild Pines flags buttress the walkway. Nothing is written on the back.

Couron '33

This one has 'HELL' written on its back. It could not be further from the truth. It's the boom years, and Couron, the nicest district in Revachol West, is enjoying a sun drenched day. Tall and handsome buildings rise from the riverside: steel, iron and yellow limestone, with cloud shadows sliding on the facades.

Boogie Street '46

This crumpled up postcard depicts an open air market in Boogie Street ~5 years ago. A vendor smiles as dead roosters line his stalls -- hung by their feet from canopy. Red blood flows onto the muddy street, blurry shadows of people pass

[deathstardroid]

Crashing the stage

[opabinia-fan]

I'm working on making Martinaise in minecraft!! :3

so far i have completed the whirling in rags (including the secret passage!) and the first bit of the backyard. i am working on the frittte now :3

[catboycooter]

[darknessrides]

LONG LIVE REVACHOL! | Disco Elysium | Night Walk, Franz Wright // Wide Sargasso Sea, Jean Rhys // end of beginning, djo // The City In The Sea, Edgar Alla Poe

[en-garte-au-cafe]

uhh, hi, i'm here to apply for the cook position-- i heard you were hiring? i have no experience but i *do* have a winning personality and a pretty nice apron

This sounds suspiciously like something Lieutenant Double-Yefreitor Harrier du Bois would say. So no.

Unless you would like to submit a legitimate application and not just an anonymous text.

What is wrong with you all.

I genuinely need help or I’m going to lose this place. Good luck finding another RCM-friendly hostel, if this is Officer du Bois. And if it’s not… then please reconsider. Just. Please.

Neutrally,

— L. Garte, Manager

P.S. @lieutenant-hdb was this you? If so, is that one of Sylvie’s left behind aprons you stole? Please give it back.

P. P. S. — If you are looking to quit the RCM, Officer, we could discuss working something out. The Whirling is in a dire situation, business-wise. I would hate to see it go, especially after all you did. To protect it, I mean.

[chizupuff]

🚨 PSA for everyone who finished disco elysium and feels an existential void afterwards:

is there a support group for us? i played a sorry cop / moralist and got the "good" ending, but now i crave MORE.

the writing, voice acting, world-building, atmosphere...it's a masterpiece. this game made me feel something i can’t even describe :(

[pvths]

i got commissioned to design a Disco Elysium skill based on BPD. Including are some skill dialogues using it. Enjoy!!

[putting-pomni-in-places]

Put her in Martinaise, outside the Whirling-In-Rags?

[worlds-end-discotheque]

the DE fandom is not ready for me to turn up circa 3 years late just to absolutely break and piece back together Kim Kitsuragi as a man and as a human capable of love and hurt. This is your premonition. I have writings in the works.

[modjolras]

Does anyone have any good disco elysium fics they’d recommend????

[mapping-elysium]

Let's start this off right with one of the most notable lore-dumps in the game, the Plaza Rain Shivers check.

In the west

Stairs to the water

Sea Fortress > Bay of Revachol > Sky scrapers of La Delta

What’s down the shore?

Defunct R+E building > Abandoned Church > Coal City

In the east

Industrial Harbor (Locked) > La Drisienne - King Dris’ Passengers Harbour > River Distributary > Couron > “The Class Divide”

In the north

Whirling Yard > Capeside apartments

“Standing in the rain, looking north, where jamrock rock city stretches inland”

In the south

Traffic jam, roundabout, statue > Road ascends to 8/81 (ghetto beneath) > Jamrock

OTHER NOTES

Where do i live?

On a street there that flows like a muddy river in the snow, with fire traps rising on either side. A film rental opens its doors to the rain, an armoured motor carriage rushes past the corner where you used to walk together... Suddenly, the hair on your back rises.

“YOU CANNOT RETURN”

SOURCE MATERIAL BENEATH THE CUT

Shivers - All around you, rain falls on the great city of Revachol. Rain drips from the eaves and floods the gutters, washing the filth away.

Shivers - The spring thaw must be here. The snow is melting...

You - What am I doing?

Shivers - Looking up at the sky, cold water dripping from your hair.

You - What do I see?

Shivers - Grey sky like great battleships, clouds colliding with one another. Rain falls down on the world.

You - How does it feel?

Shivers - Your shirt sticks to your chest. The shoulders of your disco blazer grow heavy. The cold finds its way in under your skin. You shiver, and the city shivers with you.

Composure - You're not dressed for this weather. You should get an overcoat, or a patrol cloak.

You - What is in the west?

Shivers - Sheets of rain over the water. A flight of stairs leading into the ocean. Wave after wave washing the coast of Martinaise, with its motorboats and gently swaying reeds.

Shivers - The ruins of a half-sunken seafort crumble on an inlet. Beyond the Bay of Revachol, ghosts rise into the sky.

You - Who are you, ghosts?

Shivers - The skyscrapers of La Delta, the financial district. Faint golden light seeps from the office windows.

Inland Empire - Will you ever go there?

You - Will I?

Shivers - No. You are just one of the hundreds of thousands who watch them rise across the bay from Martinaise every day.

You - What is down the shore?

Shivers - Urban coastline, rain dripping off eternite-covered roofs. Cinder blocks left over from half-finished construction. A defunct research and development building once seized by revolutionaries. An old wooden church stands on stilts above the water.

You - And beyond that?

Shivers - Coal City, end of all lines.

You - Run your fingers through your dampened hair.

Shivers - Your hair is an oily mess flecked with ash from neighbouring coal plants. Smoke stacks rise somewhere in the distance.

You - What's in the east?

Shivers - The great gates of the industrial harbour are locked. A chill runs down your back. You shudder like an animal trying to shake water from its hide.

You - Clench your teeth to stop shuddering.

Shivers - Behind the gates -- heaps of supply crates. Red and blue metal shipping containers slick with rain. The Greater Revachol Industrial Harbour is an artificial mountain range. Immense wealth resides within, and immeasurable poverty in its shadow.

You - And before that?

Shivers - You -- on the Martinaise plaza. A small dot looking up at the sky. Droplets form on your eyelashes.

You - And beyond that?

Shivers - La Drisienne, King Dris's Passenger Harbour. Cruise ships flanked by dock arms. Cranes watching over the mouth of the river distributary.

You - What is across the distributary?

Shivers - Couron, the lower middle class. Distributary after distributary cuts the city blocks in half. Seven-story buildings trail off into the rain.

You - What is beyond the Couron?

Shivers - A silvery curtain of rain over the houses. The class divide.

Rhetoric - You have never been there. They don't need the law east of the river.

You - What's in the north?

Shivers - Capeside apartments -- tower blocks crowd one another, 4.46 mm bullets still lodged in their war-torn stone walls.

Shivers - Hallways collapsed from the mortar hits of a war that was lost long ago. Clotheslines go to waste in the rain. Radios play.

Rhetoric - The morning news.

You - And closer to here?

Shivers - A yard. Rain falls onto the roof of a woodshed. Filthy water pools around a body. Droplets of rain slip from the dead man's cold cheeks.

You - What's in the south?

Shivers - A traffic jam. Rain thrumming on the roofs of motor vehicles. Inside, drivers watch water streaming down their windshields. The statue of a king shudders, he too is cold. The canal bridge has been raised.

You - What's on the other side?

Shivers - The road ascends; a raised motorway loops above the ghetto. Beneath its concrete columns -- a sea of rooftops, woodwork, and tar stretches northward. Four-story buildings as far as the rain can fall. The snows melt in Jamrock.

You - What is Jamrock?

Shivers - Revachol is the capital of the world. Jamrock is the capital of Revachol. Droplets form on your eyelashes.

Inland Empire - It's home.

You - Why am I not there?

Shivers - To be in Martinaise, where no one goes. At the run-off point of a long-forgotten canal, in the whitest part of town. In the shadow of the day the Revolution failed.

You - What am I doing here?

Shivers - Standing in the rain, looking north, where Jamrock Rock City stretches inland.

You - Where do I live?

Shivers - On a street there that flows like a muddy river in the snow, with fire traps rising on either side. A film rental opens its doors to the rain, an armoured motor carriage rushes past the corner where you used to walk together... Suddenly, the hair on your back rises.

Shivers - YOU CANNOT RETURN.

You - "Motherfucker." [Finish thought.]