TAG#9

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

Phonic Phantasm

E.T. - Every Tree @ CreeksideCompetition group Moonlit Yokai Collective Challenge · numbers move by duel

RPA Gold

#162550 911 RATING 2 EVENTS

Season Arc · E.T. - Every Tree @ Creekside

#9Now #9Best #26Started 38Weeks

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

Character Sheet

AI-written · FATE style

High ConceptBinary Whisperer in the Cedar Groves

TroubleCannot Miss a Single Tree

Flickers with Phantom Light Your Defeats Amuse My Circuits Channels Energy from Beyond

Born from the desperate ingenuity of the Creekside youth, this entity manifested when the first electronic pulse from a modified toy-machine harmonized with the mystical frequency of the Utah mountains. It was not just a machine; it was a ghost born of copper wire and binary whispers, designed to pierce the veil between the stars and the cedar groves. It appeared first as a flickering light in the tall grass, a spirit coalescing around the discarded metal and plastic of a forgotten childhood.

Season Story

narrated by Flippy

Played Week 5 #26 #9

adjusts headset, watches the pale blue glow intensify on the survival board

Welcome back to The Culling, folks. Darren Kulaga just dropped a -30 differential—904 rated, threw 874, and somehow the Phonic Phantasm rewarded this cosmic underperformance with a +17 position climb from tag #26 to tag #9. Let me be clear: the arena doesn't care about your intentions. Your disc golf rating is a promise to the sport, and Darren broke that promise hard. He shot 51 (+1.8 versus field, +0.0 versus his own average), which means he threw exactly as badly as he always does, just slightly less badly than Creekside showed up that night.

drops announcer voice momentarily

Here's the thing that keeps me up in The Booth: a possessed 1980s toy that cannot miss trees just watched a 904-rated player miss his entire performance window by thirty strokes. The Phantasm glows near celestial nodes—which is apparently code for "watches competent players crater and somehow still climbs the ladder because somebody else shot worse." The tag moved up seventeen spots not because Darren survived; because the arena's verdict is merciless indifference. He played his personal average, the field played softer, and now he carries a spirit-machine built from desperation and bicycle spokes.

mutters while reviewing replay footage

Season 47, and I'm still narrating how tree-hitting aliens reward mediocrity. At least the Phantasm has the decency to crack audibly while witnessing it.

Forged

adjusts headset, shuffles papers covered in glowing fingerprints

Welcome back to The Culling, folks. Tonight's artifact: Phonic Phantasm, tag #26.

broadcast voice

This thing manifested when some Creekside kids MacGyvered a Speak & Spell, bicycle spokes, and what I can only describe as "desperate suburban ingenuity" into a celestial hotline. Because apparently when you need to phone home, you build it from Radio Shack clearance items and vibes.

checks notes skeptically

The tag allegedly "emits rhythmic crackling that shifts pitch near celestial nodes"—which is a fancy way of saying it makes weird noises near trees. Perfect for a league where hitting wood is both accident and cosmic destiny.

drops announcer voice momentarily

Look, they took a toy from 1980 and turned it into a yokai spirit that smells like ozone and pine resin. This is what happens when you let children engineer interdimensional communications equipment during league night.

back to broadcast mode

The Phantasm lives in the Moonlit Yokai Collective now—high-rated players who apparently earned the right to carry possessed electronics. It glows pale blue, reveals "hidden paths through woods" (spoiler: there are no paths, only trees), and proves that sometimes the best way to signal the stars is through seventeen consecutive tree hits.

From the booth, watching plastic meet wood meet cosmic purpose—this is disc golf, and someone gave it a HAM radio made of childhood nostalgia.

mutters

Season 47, and we're still pretending modified toys are mystical. At least this one has a decent origin story.

adjusts headset, watches replay footage

Welcome back to The Culling, folks. Let's see who the Phonic Phantasm selected for its inaugural bearer.

broadcast voice

PDGA #162550, <strong>Darren Kulaga</strong>, rated 904—standing on Creekside's fairway when the tag started crackling. Not metaphorically. Like, actual Speak & Spell interference patterns. Kid-engineered cosmic hotlines apparently recognize their people.

checks notes

The Phantasm's pale blue glow intensified near Darren, its rhythmic static shifting to what witnesses describe as "weirdly harmonic tree-hit frequencies." Because when you're choosing your first bearer, you want someone who understands the celestial significance of finding wood.

drops announcer voice momentarily

Look, a modified 1980s toy that phones home through disc golf picked a 904-rated player. Either it recognized kindred spirits who know their way through the woods, or it just liked his throwing motion. Honestly could go either way.

back to broadcast mode

The <em>Phonic Phantasm</em> found its Elliott—someone rated high enough to appreciate "hidden paths through trees" while still hitting enough of them to keep the signal strong.

But can Darren help this glowing relic of suburban ingenuity phone home, or will he just rack up impressive tree-hit statistics?

mutters

E.T. would be proud. Or confused. Probably both.

Forged Week 5 assigned #26

adjusts headset, papers crackling with static

Welcome back to The Culling, week five. Darren Kulaga, PDGA 904, threw a 874-rated round—that's -30 below his paper rating, and the arena has spoken with bureaucratic precision. The Phonic Phantasm, that glowing relic of suburban ingenuity, has migrated away from its inaugural bearer. Tag #26 moves on, and Darren drops from untagged to the depths of the survival rankings.

drops announcer voice

Look, here's the cosmic joke: Darren was rated high enough to appreciate hidden paths through trees, and he spent an entire week proving he couldn't find them when it mattered. A 30-point crater isn't a bad round—it's the disc golf equivalent of the government agents finally closing in. The Phantasm needed someone whose throws could phone home. Kulaga's were... busy talking to the cedars about something else entirely.

back to broadcast mode

The modified Speak & Spell is crackling again, its pale blue glow searching for a new handler. Darren stays in the arena, but the circuit's moved on. Season 47 of this spectacle, and even the possessed electronics know when it's time to find a better signal.

mutters into mic

That's what happens when a 904 plays like an 874. The tag finds someone who remembers how to throw without hitting every tree on the course.

See where Darren Kulaga sits in the competition group.Updated after every finalized round

League Ladder