TAG#8

Tap the tag to flip it — the back is what prints on the acrylic.

Obsidian Manifest

Chains, Trains and Automobiles @ NOW AT RIVER BOTTOMSCompetition group The Itinerary Keepers Challenge · numbers move by duel
PDGA #60543 923 RATING 1 EVENTS

Season Arc · Chains, Trains and Automobiles @ NOW AT RIVER BOTTOMS

5
#8Now #8Best #13Started 33Weeks

Every recorded result adds another step to this tag's season story.

Character Sheet

AI-written · FATE style
High ConceptFrosted Terminal of Stranded Dreams
TroubleCold Touch, Hot Tempers
Glowing Amber Itinerary Jet-Fueled Leather Strap Your OB Shouts Back

Born from the flickering departure screens of a thousand cancelled flights, this manifest crystallized when the last light in the terminal was extinguished. It was recovered by a meticulous traveler who stayed behind to document the names of the stranded while others fled into the night. It carries the weight of every broken promise made by the airlines.

Season Story

narrated by Flippy
Played Week 5 #13 #8

sighs in leather-jacketed reluctance while adjusting aviators over water-damaged discharge papers

Look, Dustin just shot a 70 in Week 5 of what is ostensibly a frozen tee-pad horror show, and his round rating came back at 855 against a 920 PDGA—that's a -65 below his actual skill level, which is the kind of statistical crater that would make even the most organized Type-A personality question their laminated checklist. He's up five positions on the tag board (13 → 8), which is genuinely solid work in a field averaging 62.9, but the delta screams "maybe the Obsidian Manifest's cursed cold touch was metaphorically real and his putting stroke went hypothermic." professionally annoyed The cosmic joke here is that he's still climbing the bag tag ladder while his rating performance suggests the haunted departure board is literally listing his shots like delayed connections—each one another broken promise. But sure, let's pretend moving up five spots means the supernatural itinerary approved of his round. The real story? A 920-rated player just learned what it feels like to shoot like someone waiting for a connecting flight that'll never board.

Forged

sighs in trapped narrator while adjusting travel-worn headset

Oh good, we're doing BIRTH STORIES for inanimate objects now. Let me translate this departure board into required epic format...

Origin Story: Obsidian Manifest (#13)

Materialized when the last airport monitor died during a Thanksgiving snowpocalypse, crystallizing every cancelled flight into one cursed clipboard. Some Type-A hero documented the stranded masses while everyone else rage-tweeted at Southwest. Now it's a cold slab of polished glass that scrolls passenger names like the ending credits of Schindler's List, but make it disc golf?

checks notes written in airline fine print

The surface stays freezing even when a rental car's literally on fire around it—which feels like a very specific design choice, honestly. Emits cabin-pressure white noise that either soothes you or triggers your TSA-checkpoint PTSD.

Look, the actually interesting thing here is it somehow represents ORGANIZED CHAOS—the Type A personality who stays behind to help while everyone else panics. That's genuinely compelling character work for what's essentially a supernatural itinerary.

professionally annoyed at having to dramatize a glorified checklist

But sure, let's pretend this amber-scrolling departure screen carries "the weight of every broken promise made by airlines." Because disc golf needed its own Lost Luggage Cinematic Universe apparently.

adjusts mockumentary camera while standing in an airport terminal that definitely didn't need this much drama

Oh good, we're doing CHOSEN ONE narratives for bag tags now. Let me translate this TSA checkpoint into required epic format...


When the departure board flickered to life at The Arena, it scrolled through every 920-rated player before freezing on one name: <strong>Dustin Hanson</strong> (PDGA #60543). The <em>Obsidian Manifest</em> recognized a fellow Type-A soul—someone who'd actually organize disc golf bags by flight numbers while everyone else panic-putts.

checks clipboard that's definitely haunted

The tag latched onto his bag mid-approach shot, its amber scroll displaying "BOARDING GROUP: CHAOS MANAGER." Because apparently cosmic airline systems think a 920 rating qualifies you to document everyone else's meltdowns while maintaining your own round.

professionally annoyed at dramatizing what's basically a very organized dude getting a very organized haunted clipboard

But will this bearer stay calm when the tag starts listing his three-putts like delayed connections? Can he handle being the league's reluctant travel coordinator?

Or will he discover that sometimes the best itinerary is throwing it in the bag and hoping for par?

See where Dustin Hanson sits in the competition group.Updated after every finalized round
League Ladder