Working on my own Disco Elysium skills! Individual art pieces and descriptions (in the style of the game) below the cut :]
DIALECTICS
Examine verbal landscapes. Get to the truth of the matter.
Cool for: Logicians, Philosophers, Asshole Devil’s Advocates
Dialetics urges you to look beyond the basics of conversation. It encourages you to discuss theories, truths and falsehoods, until you exhaust everyone around you with your sheer affinity for taking the most convoluted routes to your deductions—but, hey, it works! Those people are only *really* annoyed because you very accurately psychoanalyzed them.
At high levels, Dialectics will help you reason with even the most convoluted of situations. You will be an unstoppable detective, who may occasionally suffer from some unintended side effects such as: your brain and mouth moving too fast, overcomplicating little things, becoming an insufferable jerk, and joining your local debate team. With low levels of Dialectics, you’re going to have a difficult time seeing through both worldly and interpersonal deceptions. You may find yourself being taken advantage of.
EVOCATION
Recall emotions and imagery. Paint complete pictures of the past.
Cool for: Visualizers, Chronic Observers, Witnesses Of Crimes
Evocation allows you to call forth memories that may otherwise be lost in the recesses of your mind. Previous instances of sound, touch, taste, feeling, sight—all of these are at your beck and call: able to be summoned within and around you in a great miasma of experience. You will be able to relive important events, even those that were only mere seconds, and examine them closer to reveal what you couldn’t comprehend in the moment.
At high levels, Evocation will help you reimagine scenes that may have happened years ago, lasted the length of a blink—or, perhaps, even allow you to picture memories that you were not present for. You will find yourself constantly transported to the past: a single whiff of a familiar perfume enough to completely derail your senses. With low levels of Evocation, you’re going to have a hard time remembering simple conversations and potentially important visual details. You will have to rely on others in such scenarios.
BODY OF LAWS
Know your rights. Remember fun courtroom trivia.
Cool for: Lawyers, Law-Evaders, Stick-In-The-Muds
Body Of Laws is responsible for your ability to follow the law at any given time—or don’t! Just because you know the rules doesn’t mean you have to play by them. Regardless, it certainly allows you to recall a, frankly, embarrassing amount of your government’s regulations, and may encourage you to ‘stay in your lane’, so to speak, regarding them. Governments aren’t the only entities that enact rules, though: you will also find yourself privy to understanding unspoken boundaries set by people, nature, and even your subconscious self.
At high levels, Body Of Laws will either make you an *extremely* insufferable goody-two-shoes, or a *wildly* effective cheat-of-the-system. You may end up feeling suffocated by all these restrictions you can so clearly see, causing you to become complicit with the movings of the machine—or potentially apathetic to why we need some of these restrictions in the first place. With low levels of Body Of Laws, you may find yourself accidentally violating boundaries you didn’t know existed—whether they be legal, personal, or cultural.
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Obsessed with Jay fully knowing he has lightning powers, but tucking that shit so far back down it's right next to where he keeps all his insecurities. By which I mean I know damn well he is SO bad at hiding his element. The toaster in the break room is on the fritz and he goes over to fix it and winds up sparking it back to life on accident. Someone bursts into his office when he's playing video games and he startles so bad he sends an electrical shock through the controller and blows a fuse. He's out on a mission in the middle of a storm and whenever anyone touches him they keep getting zapped with weirdly powerful static.
He insists no one knows. The truth is that most people don't know because the Administration would have to do too much paperwork if Jay actually had powers so they live in blissful ignorance. The few that do know keep their mouths shut and decide it's just a quirk of their weird manager. Jay's humming the mission impossible theme under his breath every other day, which is probably why he never even bothered to get to the "huh, I wonder why I have these weird powers" stage. And he will continue to not think about it until he dies. Or Nya finally finds him and has a meltdown over her greatest fear coming true. One of the two
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okay so you know how it goes: fourteen comes to life in thirteen's clothes. and they're both too short and too loose and entirely too bright for his frame of mind. they worked with a doctor who hid everything behind a too wide smile; not so much with a doctor whose pain and tiredness is written across his face
he needs to change. obviously
and then the star beast starts, and fourteen leaves the tardis, and he's still in thirteen's clothes
he just. he doesn't know. how does he choose new clothes? he feels wrong. how will wearing something else change that?
(donna tells him that it's christmas, mate; it's bloody freezing. maybe wear longer trousers, yeah? also he's both too young and too old to wear braces. just a friendly note)
he doesn't have to explain who he is to the unit scientist, not with those clothes. instead he talks about how he doesn't understand why he looks like this. why he is this. why this face? why isn't he someone new?
actually. maybe he is someone new. was he ever this open before? hm
why do you look like that, sylvia hisses, trying to hide him from the daughter he destroyed ruined left
it's a lottery, he replies, purposely ignorant
he still has his thirteenth self's screwdriver. it's too small in his hands
(the whole time they were her, her hands were too small. she didn't like touching anyway, but whenever someone took her hand, it felt wrong. they were too small. sometimes it felt like if she worked fast enough, tinkered about without stopping, she wouldn't have to look at them)
everything goes wrong. his fault, like always
(blimey. of all the things to carry over from the first time he had this face, it had to be the guilt, didn't it?)
you shouldn't look like that, the doctordonna says, and he runs a hand down his face with a tired laugh
no, the doctordonna says, not the face. a hand reaches out to grasp at the collar of his shirt, at the dangling earring chain. this isn't you. who are you, doctor?
like he knows. like they've ever-
she dies.
she lives. he doesn't deserve it. it isn't about him. he still doesn't deserve it
we're letting it go, donna says, and he looks down at himself, at another him's clothes, another him's screwdriver
well, she never was subtle, his donna
the tardis is gorgeous, though when isn't she. he tries to show off his new console to donna, and she rolls her eyes, and drags him off to the wardrobe
unlike normally, where all the clothes are scattered about, the new tardis wardrobe now also has a line of wardrobes stood against the wall. fifteen of them, to be exact
the last wardrobe is open. and empty
he goes to the second to last, and opens it to reveal a wide array of rainbow patterned shirts. she probably would've hated for her things to be organised like this. always creating mess so she wouldn't have to think about anything important. he laughs. and he takes off the sky coloured coat and the worn boots and the earrings and gently places them inside. tag, he thinks, as he closes the doors
and then he moves down to the eleventh wardrobe, full of brown coats and blue suits and neatly pressed shirts and pairs of converse. and he stands in front of it. and he wonders
after a moment, donna's like wait do you want me to leave?? you never cared about nudity before, did you? and he's like oh actually i do feel more self conscious. huh. weird.
he doesn't have to say, i think i'm a different person. not to donna. she just gives him a smile, and a shoulder nudge, and tells him she'll see him in the console room
the last wardrobe is empty
he takes a breath, and then goes to rummage about in the rest of the clothes
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