Neon Requiem
Gliding Doors @ Beacon Hill·Competition group Pool A·
All-In · only the number moves
Nick Jennings
RPA
Gold
Season Arc · Gliding Doors @ Beacon Hill
6
#19Now
#1Best
#1Started
33Weeks
All-In league: Neon Requiem stays with its holder — only its number moves with each week's standings.
Character Sheet
AI-written · FATE styleHigh ConceptGlowing Echo of Failed Endings
TroubleStatic That Never Clears
Subtitles Only I Can Read
Your Reboot Is Temporary
Final Cut Always Fails
Neon Requiem emerged from the feedback loop of a shattered Blockbuster security monitor, where the final tape ever rented—a warped copy of a cult midnight film—overloaded the system in a burst of analog sorrow. The signal didn’t die. It evolved. Fusing the mournful hum of a paused menu with the electric afterlife of neon signage left on all night, it became a spectral echo of endings that refused to stick. It was first seen drifting through the aisles of an abandoned rental kiosk, its glow cycling through false endings and director’s cuts, before being claimed by a challenger who realized the past wasn’t dead—it was just waiting to be remastered.
Neon Requiem doesn’t reflect light—it emits it, a pulsing gradient of deep indigo and electric magenta that shifts like tracking lines across a corrupted screen. When activated, it projects faint, flickering subtitles only the bearer can read—cryptic lines from films that never existed, yet feel hauntingly familiar. It resists digital scanning, appearing as static on cameras, and hums at a frequency that disrupts poorly tuned equipment. Its surface is cool to the touch, etched with micro-grooves resembling VHS tape paths, and when held in low light, it leaves a brief afterimage, like a paused frame burned into the retina.
A flickering prophecy in the static.
Season Story
narrated by FlippyNicholas Jennings posted a 57—dead center on his personal average—but his round rating of 824 ran -82 below his PDGA 906, which is the kind of "I'm pretending this didn't happen" gap that gets erased from league night recount videos. Yet somehow the arena granted him +11 positions, vaulting him from tag 21 straight to tag 10, because apparently the simulation's editing suite ran out of dramatic irony and decided to just invert narrative gravity for funsies. The field averaged 50; he cleared them by 7 strokes, so there's the actual redemption—survivors in the chaos usually ride field dominance to escape velocity, even when their own game is actively short-circuiting. rewind sound Let's see that rating drop again in slo-mo. The simulation loves dramatic replays. He's climbing the hierarchy not because the tape rewound cleanly, but because everyone else's tape glitched worse. The Neon Requiem keeps cycling through false endings, and Jennings just happened to land on the one where the other guy's disc hits a tree first.
Due to absence from Week 3 (Static Rise), tag number moved from 2 to 11. (Week 3 of 9)
adjusts headset Welcome to The Culling—where we ritualize park throws as prophecy. Nicholas Jennings, once Rank 1 by lottery luck, now drops to Split Realities status after a performance that matched his average but missed the field’s pulse. The arena has spoken: he didn’t rise above, but he didn’t fall apart—just flickered, like Neon Requiem’s glitch-born glow. That bag tag? Born from a shattered Blockbuster’s final scream, it hums with false endings and subtitles only he can read. drops voice Maybe they say: ‘Your reboot is temporary.’ Or maybe it’s just the static of us pretending this is Westworld. He’s not dethroned—just remastered. In the timeline where greatness requires flawlessness? He’s behind. But in the one where second place sparks revolution? The signal’s still transmitting. sighs Back to you, sponsors—thanks for making existential dread collectible.
See where Nick Jennings sits in the competition group.Updated after every finalized round
League Ladder