SEPTEMBER TEST DRIVE MEME!

[reddosmod]

SEPTEMBER 2022 TDM

Another month, another test drive meme! Our test drive memes are open to anyone interested - regardless of whether or not you join our game!

All Test Drive Memes are game canon. Players can choose to keep their TDM threads canon or not. TDM threads can be used for AC and can be used as your writing sample for your application.

Our TDMs serve as a way to build into the actual lore and worldbuilding of Deer Country and we strongly encourage everyone to enjoy and participate! Current players are always welcome to pull prompts from the TDM to reference on the Network or bring into logs as well as tag out to new characters top-leveling on the TDM itself.

Characters will always be able to actively die during TDMs as this is an extremely dangerous world. You can still have this be game canon! Check out how character death in Deer Country works here.

If you have any questions about the TDM, please ask down below!

IMAGE DESCRIPTORS IN ORDER OF APPEARANCE
Prompt One
[Image One: Bread Cornucopia filled with fruits and veggies]
[Image Two: Creepy glass eye embedded in sand]

Prompt Two
[Image One: A Lone Lighthouse by night]
[Image Two: Ghost Ship in dilapidated condition]

Prompt Three
[Image One: Wasps, Wasp Nest made from human Mask screaming terror, swirling eddies in wasp Nest]
[Image Two: Horribly mutilated Cenobite in Latex gear with exposed teeth]

[NAVIGATION]

TDM Questions • Reserves • Taken • Applications • Full Navigation

[Jump to Comments]

STANDARD ARRIVAL

WHEN: First Week of September
WHERE: The Farther Shores/The Boardwalk, Koz's Orphanage
CONTENT WARNINGS: Creepy Prosthetics buried in the sand

---

On some level, you are one of the fortunate ones. The storms of August are now a distant memory. It is the waning of the Blood Moon and the tempestuous state of the Beast Moon this year is fading finally while the harvest is being collected. Sleepers arriving find no particular difficulty in actually reaching the shores for the most part, and transformations back into their natural state of being are relatively easy. They are met by happy Trenchies and fellow Sleepers with robes of white and their bags as normal, and motioned towards the waiting tents set up along the

What is strange, however, is that when Sleepers arrive, they may find their eyes drawn to something disturbing amongst the sand. Water washes with the waves and tide, and reveals a body part! They are always prosthetics of some variety, and many are glass eyes that eerily stare at the person. They can be retrieved with some ease, though they're in bad need of cleaning. Perhaps they belong to someone in town? If not, however, asking around will get a suggestion to bring those to Koz's Orphange in Crenshaw. They have a Lost and Found there, and it is the season of finding what and who is lost. If they do, they might catch a glimpse of Koz floating mournfully through the area, and one of the children will gratefully take the item, saying that they will add it to the rest of the Lost and Found, before coming back with a photo in hand. "Here, I found this, and I think it might be yours?" The photo is, indeed, of the giver and someone from their past. Perhaps it is an actual photo taken, or one they cannot remember having been taken. Regardless, it is offered to them in a cheap wooden frame. How it got there, the orphan does not know. It was probably there when they arrived.

SEASONAL DETAILS ON THE BOARDWALK
The Boardwalk is quite the spectacle this time of year, and those who were here the prior year will remember many of the decorations and festivities. Pumpkins have been stacked on spikes lining the Boardwalk with grotesquely realistic carvings of faces decorated on them. Massive white linen has been hung in the air to look like ghosts floating back and forth against the ocean wind.

Delicious smells waft from the Boardwalk as fresh donuts, candied apples, and hot apple cider are sold at every other booth, along with complementary cornucopias given to each new Sleeper made out of bread that has fruits of all varieties but always seems to have a small jar of the favorite fruit, seed, vegetable (or even meat) of the person receiving it. If asked where it is from, the Sleepers shrug and say "The Orphans took up a collection to give a welcoming gift to new arrivals." If what is in the jar is eaten by the person given it, it will help to ease their mind and give them a calm that can last up to a week as they acclimate.

Preparations are in order for this year's Black Parade. An annual celebration, it is promoted among the excited locals as something that people can participate in. Face Painting booths and costumes are available to those who wish them, with the statement by the Trenchies, "We do it to disguise ourselves from roaming spirits and hungry beasts."

[JUMP TO TOP] • [JUMP TO COMMENTS]

A FADED MEMORY

WHEN: Mid October
WHERE: In Swimming distance (Barely) of the Farther Shores
CONTENT WARNINGS: Ghostly Ship & Lighthouse, Threat of Corruption, Remains of Ghastly Murder and Dismembered Corpse

---

It is by accident that your eyes chance to look towards the Farther Shores. There, you happen to see a lighthouse, but you know for certain that it cannot be the lighthouse that is normally there and manned by the fishermen. You can't usually see that from this angle. The moment that you see it, a feeling of mounting dread falls upon you, and you realize that there is no light in the lighthouse. Though the compulsion to investigate can be resisted, there is an almost overwhelming urge to go, to investigate, to re-ignite the flame before it is too late!

The question is getting out there. The fishermen, when the lighthouse is mentioned, will make warding gestures and look terrified. All will resolutely refuse to sail out, muttering incomprehensible curses and lashing their boats securely to the shore. There will be no fishing tonight. The lighthouse, from the docks and shores, is out in the water on a rocky outcrop that nobody remembers being there, though any Trenchy asked will pale at the mention. The only way to get out there is to swim. It is a hard, dangerous swim, but the tide is coming in, rather than going out, so the riptide is not pulling down. It can be done, or a raft can be hastily made. When clambering up the stone steps to the lone lighthouse, it is apparent its door is ajar. And within? Horror awaits.

The insides of the tower are caked in viscuous, green blood. The Lighthouse itself is barely standing. It looks as if a thunderous, colossal fist has battered it repeatedly, the building nearly collapsing at every step. It does not actually break apart, but those who ascend the steps find themselves fighting not to slip on old, caked and thick blood that smells of roses. The contact with the blood isn't doing anything good to the person's sanity and hallucinations of the screams of the dying can be heard, along with shrieks of "What is it?" at the top of someone's voice. An increase in corruption is possible here, though not required. The more one contacts the blood, the greater the risk is. In the top of the lighthouse, dismembered, skeletal remains lay in gobs of what may once have been flesh. One of them holds desperately a torch in their hand, and there is a lighter present. One look out into the night will see a great vessel approaching, broken, its sails tattered and ruined. there is little time, and hopefully the lighter works!

The moment the torch lights the lamp in the lighthouse, the ship veers away from a collision course that would have destroyed the lighthouse and likely the flimsy rock outcropping on which it stood. Shades of dead sailors stare in horror at those who man the lighthouse today, the ship sailing away into the night. All are pointing beyond, and if you look over your shoulder, you can barely see a collosal figure in shadow walking into the town beyond, seemingly confused and wailing. Nothing further happens, and when the people in the lighthouse reach shore again, they will find upon turning back that it is gone, as is the outcropping, though a close inspection does see the remains of a shallow of stone there where the island once stood.

Note: The Ghost ship cannot be interacted with. If someone has the ability to reach it, they will pass through it only to realize it is nothing more than a memory in the land. Fragments of rotted wood and broken masonry can be found in the water below, covered in countless barnacles. Nothing within them shows any proof of what once transpired. There is a risk of corruption from blood exposure, though this is very much up to the players if they wish to incorporate it.

No Trenchy will willingly speak of what transpired, though a careful investigation at the Pale Sanctuary may find a tome among the sacred texts associated with Cloverfield. Reading from it, one might find a forgotten marking that the first sighting of Cloverfield, long ago, saw the collapse of the original lighthouse. No Disciple recalls the incident, and none will speak of it.

[JUMP TO TOP] • [JUMP TO COMMENTS]

FRIEND OR FOE

WHEN: Anytime in October
WHERE: At the frindges of the main districts
CONTENT WARNINGS: demonic bugs, Bug Horror, Grotesque death, Self mutilation, Bug Infestation

---

The first thing that alerts you to the danger is the screams. They are agonizing, gut-wrenching and full of naked horror. When traveling near the edge of any of the districts, particularly the Crenshaw district, it is possible at times to witness a truly horrifying sight. The screams, if investigated, come upon the grisly attack of a horde of not exactly wasps but closer to demonic insects swarming over a person. They shriek, their whole form shrouded by the terrible creatures as they're being stun and the things seem to be extruding some sort of substance to cocoon them while still alive to one of the trees. There is no cry for help, as the person is clearly unaware of who is there, but do you reach out to save them?

If you do not, the scene is horrific and grisly beyond reckoning. The wasps trap the hapless victim against a tree, grafting the extruded paper all over their screaming visage to form a new wasp nest before they ultimately begin crawling inside of them, devouring them from the inside out and implanting their eggs in the new 'home' created for them. It is at this time that the palpable danger may dawn upon you. The infernal bugs have not yet seen you, but they seem to be aware that there is other life around. Do you take this moment to try and beat a hasty retreat, or do you fight it out with the bugs? They can be destroyed, but only by means of abilities and powers that destroy multiples at once, such as great gouts of flame. Hopefully you have a coldblood present! Fleeing them is easier, but can you leave this person to their fate? Still, if instead you observe and take no action, eventually the bugs seem to notice you, and though they swarm near, as long as they are not attacked, they seem to do nothing.

Strange.

If, however, you try to save the victim, a very different scene plays out. The same rules apply to fight the swarm, and if you stop them short of killing their victim, you will see just who it is that you have saved. There, mutilated through self scarification and brutally altered in horrible ways that seem almost fetishistic, is one of the blood crazed zealots. Despite being weakened and badly injured, they lash out at you, their defender. The power that they wield with their blood is incredible, and they demonstrate an ability to wield it that is well documented. The only note is that no Cold-blooded Zealots are present, and so their powers are not represented this time. However, they are drained and though they pose a threat to your life, they can be killed here with a bit of care, can be resisted with great difficulty and certainly be escaped. Either way, there is no true reward for having killed them other than knowing that you have done so. Why are they here? Alone?

It is almost as if they were an advance scout, and the wasps were someone's defense against them, someone's early warning.

[JUMP TO TOP]

CODING

Comments

[sanguinarydelight]

A pleased little smile passes across her face, the corners of her eyes crinkling.

"Indeed," she agrees. Usually she'd be dismissive, but in uncertain situations such as these, she's more than keen to build alliances. Who knows who will be useful later down the line, after all, and if the bridges she builds go nowhere... well. Dismantling them is no great matter.

With her bearings straightened, Alcina scours the beach for anyone who looks like they might be in charge. No sense pestering the help - they were all to busy scuttling around like pillbugs under an upturned stone. But someone had to be giving orders, and they would have the choicest morsels of information.

"Do tell me if you spot someone who looks like they're running this whole charade," she remarks haughtily as she adjusts her robe and strides with purpose, and shocking grace and poise for a woman of 9'6".

[poorlittlesange]

A different world. A different plane. A dream. Jin Guangyao opens his eyes and, finally, looks up at what he can see of the alien sky beyond Wei Wuxian's head. The sight of a moon full and scarlet red is enough to make him push himself back up into a sitting position stare, and then take in more of his surroundings with wide eyes. It's almost enough to make him forget just who it is who is standing a stone's throw away from him, polishing off false eyes like he's dusting off a tea cup.

"...then," he begins, but his voice is unsteady and he can't abide that, not in front of Wei Wuxian. He swallows and starts again. "In Guanyin Temple, before. Did Chifeng-zun--is Zewu-jun--?"

Fuck. He can't make himself say the words. But if he is in this place, and Wei Wuxian is here, then the unbearable possibility remains that Nie Mingjue's fierce corpse broke more than one neck that night.

[specialtechnique]

[Graphic design, passion, etc. He has a gift.]

Yeah, yeah. Everyone's a critic.

And-- absolutely! Or they will, once I hire some through my rigorous interview process.

[kaientai]

What..?

[ ryouma doesn't realise the problem at first, mostly because naked is a perfectly normal state to be in. but then he remembers not everyone grew up in tosa, where these things are pretty casual. ]

Never been to a bathhouse? Or gone swimming with your friends in the summer..?

[ he at least chooses a better way to sit. and a handy bit of seaweed provides a... buffer. eventually he'll remember he can alter his appearance, but of all the memories starting to settle back in where they belong, he hasn't gotten to that magic yet either. ]

1, beach-flavored, INTRODUCE ME TO YOUR WIFE, JOHN

[unsheathedfromreality]

[The Pthumerian Sea takes away, and the Pthumerian Sea gives.

It isn't quite correct to say Illarion's been tirelessly combing the beach since a certain black godling disappeared from the Imperial household. He has other commitments, as Disciple and Hunter and sometimes-adoptive-parent, that keep him busy in Trench. But he has made a point of spending an hour or two every day down on the sand, keeping idle watch for the unmistakeable Presence of a Monarch and gathering the prosthetics washing ashore. (Waste not, want not, when it came to Mariana's capricious bounties--though he hasn't been turning them in himself. There's other Sleepers who need the reminder of home more than he does; he gives them away to those who don't have the time to spend on the beach.)

Today, there are two Presences, one familiar and one not, that bend the world strangely around them and draw the wandering shrike rapidly down the beach into their gravity well.

He does not recognize the ??woman?? sitting beside John, but he has a guess.]

Is this she, then?

[His expression's one of faint awe; all his golden eyes are wide, and he bats not a one at the crunch of teeth on metal.]

[towards_okeanos]

There's no way Iskandar could not notice his own name being mentioned, even if in part. Any other time, any other place, he would assume people are familiar with it. Though, usually with his Greek not the Persian one. Here in Trench, where so many come from worlds that never heard of him, it's different. But there's knowing the name and recognizing the person. The girl here seems to have recognized him before he introduced himself.

"I am indeed Iskandar and it was rude of me not to introduce myself first. Even more now that I must ask, do we know each other?"

Her happiness is contagious, but he's already feeling guilty that she recognized him, and he did not. There can be an explanation for that too, but Iskandar prefers not to assume on insufficient information.

ii, WHAT UP HAVE MY OTHER (other) BLIND ELF

[unsheathedfromreality]

The lighthouse is a (deliberate?) lacuna in the Disciples' collective memory, and that makes it--beyond its insistent compulsion to come, relight the flame, hurry--very interesting to Illarion. Ordinarily, mere interest would not be reason enough for him to pry into an obvious taboo; ordinarily, it would be his duty to help the sailors ward their vessels against whatever about the apparition frightens them so.

And he has, actually, done as much for several the otherwise-stalwart souls here in Darcmouth--though more by way of apology for insistent inquiries he couldn't restrain himself from making, than a Disciple's obligation to his flock. In his own process of working through the frightened sailors, he could not fail to notice other Sleepers going through the exact same futile process. Some were those he recognized in passing--by ((feel)), by voice--while others were wholly new to him. Letting recent arrivals get sucked into one of Trench's myriad compulsions without any warning of what they face is, also, something he's duty-bound to prevent--so once he's finished with a final apotropaic charm and handed it off to another quivering sea-dog, he picks the next unfamiliar Sleeper to cross his path and follows said worthy further down the pier.

A pier, he notes, long enough to make a worthwhile launching point for a trip to the lighthouse. He's chosen right, then, and so stops well shy of crowding in on the young human as the other man draws, places, and steps onto his sword.

Whatever's supposed to happen after that doesn't, and Illarion waits a respectful few seconds before calling out, "You are thinking of going to the lighthouse, yes?"

1, henlo!!

[unsheathedfromreality]

[Other Wakers, on finding a Sleeper passed out on the sand--out of the squid but also out of it entirely--would take their title quite literally and shake the poor guy awake.

Illarion, who's in a damned odd mood--who's in a mood at all, for once--merely smiles paternally on noticing that the Sleeper he's (literally) holding the bag for hasn't made it far up the beach. There's something endearing about the whole scene, and damned if he's not going to bask in that unaccustomed emotion while he's capable.

The shrike sets down the bag he's carrying and pulls off the Sleeper robe slung over his shoulder. It's oversized enough he can settle it over the man in the sand as a reasonable blanket with only a little fussing.

Then, he hunkers down on his heels nearby to wait for his new charge to wake up.]

[kaientai]

Nah! I figure there's gonna be more where this came from. If they're gearing up for some kinda celebration, I bet we'll do a lot better than fruit and bread.

[ ryouma found the little jar though, but right now it's tucked under a plum. ]

Sorta funny what they're giving out as extras though; it's too specific to be coincidental, so it makes you wonder how they know...

[ but makes you wonder sort of hits different now when knowing might be actively dangerous. ]

adds this one to my collection

[poorlittlesange]

The flicker of spiritual power between Jin Guangyao and the sword on the docks gutters out abruptly at Illarion's arrival. He looks up quickly, eyes disarmingly wide and curious, before averting his gaze. Jin Guangyao is a quick study, and a survivor, and so it has not taken him long to become inured to the sight of walking, talking, thinking beings who have clearly never been human. That does not mean he isn't fascinated by them--or immune to the fear of all the things about them that he does not yet understand, that could pose a threat to his safety.

"Yes, xiansheng," he answers, polite and courteous, and then calls the sword back into his grasp; it leaps to his fingers as though eager to answer his commands, and it would be unspeakably rude to leave such a tool on the dirty ground for longer than necessary. "If this humble one can summon the power to make the journey across the water." The self-deprecation doesn't ring with self-pity or bitterness; rather, like the honorific that precedes it, as a gesture of respect to a stranger whose social standing is likely higher than his own.

[itknowsyou]

Jon crashes right into him, and it's awkward, it's desperate, all elbows and frantic hands— Martin nearly knocks the breath out of him, and Jon clings back just as tightly. He knots his fingers into the thin, wet gauze of Martin's robe and doesn't care how unfamiliar it feels, not so long as he can feel the steady warm span of Martin's back beneath it. He tucks himself in close and for a moment, blind and gasping with relief, everything feels right.

He pulls himself away just enough to look Martin in the face, throat working as he tries to catch up. His grip loosens just a little, and he looks behind him, to the smoky owl which now perches still and silent in the air.

"Martin— it's— ignore it. It, it doesn't matter."

He presses closer again, his voice hitching.

"I'm fine. I'm really— you're alright?"

[thunderingcourage]

She was extremely happy to see Ritsuka and was just barely able to hold back from picking him up in a hug as she waved and walked over to where and the ghost pokemon were.

"Ritsuka-kun you're back, have you been here long? How are you?"

He seemed to be alright, so hopefully he'd found somewhere to stay, though if not she knew plnety of places and of course she'd make sure that he knew about the store so if he ever needed something to eat.

[dynatox]

Don't worry, I can keep up. [ It's not exactly a welcome environment, but he's fit enough that he can take the whole staircase without resting. ] And it symbolizes survival. Conquering fear.

[ John had chosen them, not Terry, but he always liked it well enough. If he had actually seen the snake pit with his own eyes he might have been more resistant to tattooing one on his body (or naming his dojo after it) but as is, it's fine. He'll follow John's lead. ]

I was a prisoner of war once. Our captors had a pit of snakes that they'd feed the dead to. My Captain and I both got this tattoo after we made it out. [ A beat. ] We were held captive in the jungle.

[ The last time he'd seen Maul was when they'd been dumped into the jungle, so that might explain his feeble state at the time. ]

[dynatox]

I figured out that much last time. Kind of insulting, isn't it? The other types have such lovely names.

[ And then here he is, vile. How rude, when he became the way he is for the person he loved. In what world is that vile?

But there are more important matters at hand, like getting the hell out of here. He boosts her up easily enough, and with his height she'll be able to see into the burner clearly. ]

Is it the right one?

[dynatox]

You are truly disgusting, do you know that?

[ He steps forward, planting his foot on Johnny's chest. Not firmly enough to break any bones, but enough to make it difficult to breathe.

He looks down at Johnny and sneers, shaking his head. ]

A shame Mr. Atreides fell in with you. That boy had potential. I wonder how many students you'll ruin before someone puts you down for good.

[dynatox]

That is true enough. And I'm afraid I don't have a weapon on me just yet.

[ Getting roughed up back home and having to go through the squid process once again hasn't done him any wonders. As much as he hates to turn down a chance to show his fighting prowess, it's sensible.

Besides, Paul's already trained with him, he knows he's not a frail old man. ]

If you're sure, I'll meet you at the boardwalk. I should check in and see if anything for me showed up, anyway.

[dynatox]

I knew you'd say that.

[ He smiles warmly, unwrapping the gi and showing off the sheathed katana inside. ] This sword once belonged to Uesugi Kenshin. I'm glad it's still in good hands. [ He grasps it on both hands, pulling it halfway out of the saya. Just enough to reveal that there's still some blood on the blade itself. ]

Ah, it wasn't cleaned on the way in. I'll have to do that when I settle down. It's bad for the steel, you know.

[ And with that, he snaps it shut again, rolling it back up in the gi. He's no threat right now, not unless Daniel strikes first. ]

[melodyofsilence]

"Oh! That's neat!" She clapped her hands together in excitement. "I'm glad that you got to reunite with her, I'm sure she must have missed you a lot." They have the Omens here, but they seem different from Pokemon, more like a friend than an extension.

"It's nice to meet you, Aoyagi-san. My name is Tomoe Hotaru." There's a bow in return. "Really, it's fine. The key was returned and no harm was done. I just hope she's more careful in the future."

Her gaze flickered over to the natives on the boardwalk, the expression a little more serious. "The people here may not be so forgiving."

[burnyoudown]

Kavinsky gestured vaguely with the prosthetic hand. "I've already dealt with the shit that scares me. I'm over it." Or, he liked to think he was, anyway. Whether or not it was actually true was up for debate.

Making a face, he shook his head. "So TVs aren't common. Guess having a computer would be pointless." If there was no internet, why bother? And it wasn't like he could head to the local big box store and pick up some computer games. Or a console. Or console games.

"So what do people do here?"

[faceblocks]

[he could try - she wouldn't see it coming and even if she did: he gets a free shot. maybe two.

a brow lift at 'fun talk'. she's not going to press it. they've talked, they've both lived to tell the tale? that's enough. it's enough of a start for vi.]

Viktor's one of us, but I don't think you've met.

[did she just like ...straighten his cowl? yup. well, she did mess it up with her face, so. and she can't leave this out, as much as she would like to:]

Silco was here. In and out like a ...heist.

[gotaknife]

The way she looks at him makes it more than clear enough that she's telling the truth and Martin decides he doesn't need to hear about what the other him told her.

"No, no, that's okay. I believe you," he answers, holding up his hands. "It's just... a little weird, that's all. But that, ah, seems to be kind of... normal? For around here? I mean, it's probably not as weird as being a squid, right?"

Martin falls quiet for a moment. He's not entirely sure the best way to move forward from here, but he does not want to hurt Ange. It's obvious she's already hurt enough that he doesn't actually know who she is. They must have been close, he thinks.

"We, um. We could be friends again. If - if you want?" The offer is uncertain; he's not sure if it's actually helpful, or if maybe she'd just rather forget about him all together.

cw: relationship that is weird and bad, also tooth gore

[necrolord]

[ John turns to him, and the expression on his face is not one Illarion has ever seen from him before: he looks at once delighted and abashed, lit up with a bright and disbelieving sort of awe. He holds himself around Alecto as a planet does a star. He hovers over her every movement, and he does not flinch at the bad sound her teeth make when she tries to grind metal to shards.

When he looks between the shrike and the monster at his side, it is with the eager tension of a child very much hoping he'll persuade two friends to get along. ]

This is she.

[ He touches her on the shoulder, fingers curled gentle over the damp fabric of her robe. ]

Annabel, this is Big Bird. [ He quirks a smile as though caught out, sheepish. ] Might have to come up with something better than that, at this rate... Meet Annabel.

[gotaknife]

Yeah. Yeah, I bet this place has that affect on a lot of people, especially with the - the blood, and everything.

[He watches attentively as the man rises to his feet, ready to step in should he stumble. He looks up the crumbling stairs with trepidation. It feels like something is calling to him to climb to the top, to ignite the lamp.]

I think we're supposed to go up there.

[He doesn't want to go alone, but he sets his hand on the rusted railing, and immediately releases it as he touches the green blood smeared everywhere.]

Ugh! Right, of course.

[He looks up the steps, then back to Terry.]

I think maybe we should stick together?

[necroprince]

Of course I feel it. That's exactly why it's a lie.

[It's like a siren call, luring her to her doom. No thanks! Ianthe's a lot of things but she's not suicidal. Nor is she prone to doing things like listening to voices in her head.]

It's a trap. It's always a trap when something tries to tell you it wants you to stay. No thanks, I'm going back home before God and his favorite group of rebellious teens fuck everything up again.

[Nevermind that that's not how it works. She's come too far and sacrificed too damn much to give up now, all so Sextus can rub her failure in her face.]

[survivalthroughhate]

Then it is a good mark to possess. To have a part of your past etched into your skin like that means no one can take it away from you or make you forget it.

[Something clicks in Maul's head then. So it was the jungle itself that had caused that strong reaction in Terry much in the same way electric attacks do the same thing to Maul himself. He pauses in their ascent and looks back towards the older man.]

Is that why in the jungle here you had a....fit?

[The pause and uncertainty in Maul's voice on the last word makes it clear he's searching for the right one to use but doesn't know quite what it was he saw. But that's the closest match he has in his vocabulary.]