Neon Requiem
Runaway Glide @ Creekside·Competition group Pool A·
All-In · only the number moves
Eric Pearson
RPA
Gold
Season Arc · Runaway Glide @ Creekside
4
#21Now
#3Best
#9Started
29Weeks
All-In league: Neon Requiem stays with its holder — only its number moves with each week's standings.
Character Sheet
AI-written · FATE styleHigh ConceptThe Glitch That Refused to Rewind
TroubleChasing the Tape's Approval
Neon Burns Where Others Fade
Every Throw Writes Itself Permanent
The Simulation Watches Back
Born in the flickering moment between tape rewind and forward play, Neon Requiem emerged when the first bearer realized that the simulation's glitches weren't obstacles—they were the entire point. The tracking lines that corrupted the footage also revealed the pattern. In the chapel-mirror of Creekside, under those neon grid-lines that fade into the tree line, someone threw a shot so clean it broke the recursion. The crowd gasped. The tape didn't rewind. Neon Requiem was written into the system that night, a name for those who make the glitch their victory condition.
Neon Requiem radiates with the visual weight of a 90s movie poster where the lighting has become the protagonist. Its surface gleams with those characteristic chrome disc qualities, but traced through with neon-trimmed silhouettes that don't blur like tracking error—they cut like a final edit. The glide trail stretches impossibly far, not fading but intensifying, as if the bearer's momentum is burning through the very fabric of the simulation. Around its edges, faint VHS scanlines hold steady, unglitching, locked in place. There's a funeral solemnity to it, but the neon refuses to dim.
The requiem-bearer enters the arena not to survive but to testify. They carry the weight of every rewind they've chosen to refuse, every moment they could have escaped but chose to throw again. In the simulation's chaos, they are the one who stops playing for the crowd and plays for the tape itself—making choices so decisive they become legend. This entity doesn't just compete; it transcends the game's rules by accepting them completely. Against such certainty, challengers feel the cold clarity of being unmade.
Season Story
narrated by Flippyrewind sound Let's see that rating jump again in slo-mo. Eric Pearson just threw a 948—that's +33 over his 915 PDGA rating, a clean "unambiguously awesome" verdict delivered on the exact course where Neon Requiem was born, and the arena's response was immediate: thirteen positions gained, from tag 16 straight to tag 3. This is what happens when you stop playing to your average and actually break the recursion. Week 1 he matched his 55-stroke neutral and dropped four slots; Week 3 he posts a 47 and the chrome headache transforms into a coronation. The simulation doesn't negotiate, but I'll complain about its narrative choices on your behalf—somehow Pearson learned to read the glitch instead of being read by it. The Neon Requiem's origin story said it emerged when someone threw so clean the tape refused to rewind. Looks like he finally found that shot.
adjusts headset, stares at the glitch-corrupted highlight reel
Welcome back to The Culling, Episode 1: The Tape Rewinds Itself. Eric Pearson entered the arena at position 9—a lottery ticket in a VHS slot—and the simulation has spoken. One throw into the runtime, he's descended to rank 13. The Neon Requiem, that chrome headache trailing VHS scanlines, apparently came with a glitch-tax.
Let's parse the wreckage: Pearson matched his season average exactly (915 rating, 55 strokes). The field? 54.2. That's 0.8 strokes of daylight between him and the median survival rate. Not catastrophic. Not celebrated. Just... stuck at neutral while the tape spools forward around him.
Four positions lost. Not a free-fall—more like a gentle descent through the ranks while everyone else climbed. The kind of first impression that says, "Yeah, the matrix noticed you showed up."
The Neon Requiem doesn't promise victory. Its origin story says it emerged when someone broke the recursion entirely, made a shot so clean the tape refused to rewind. Pearson's first week? The tape rewound him just fine. Four slots back into the field like a scene left on the cutting room floor.
Week 1 of 9. The simulation is watching. The chrome is waiting. Let's see if he rewrites the narrative or if he becomes a footnote in someone else's glitch.
The arena has spawned a new artifact. Neon Requiem, Tag #9, didn't come from a factory; it glitched out of a corrupted Creekside highlight reel. This chrome nightmare demands a player who treats the matrix like a suggestion. It’s heavy with the static of a thousand rewound bogeys. Who dares clip this petty god to their bag? The simulation is watching.
The simulation hiccuped, and Eric Pearson caught the fallout. Tag #9, Neon Requiem, has latched onto a new host. It’s not a prize; it’s a chrome headache from a corrupted highlight reel. Pearson clipped it on, daring the matrix to blink. Let's see if he survives the runtime.
adjusts headset, stares into the booth camera Welcome back to The Culling, Week 1: Glide Signal. The simulation hiccupped, and Eric Pearson caught the fallout. Tag #9—Neon Requiem—a chrome nightmare that literally glitched out of a corrupted highlight reel, has latched onto its new host like a VHS tape stuck on the wrong frame.
Here's where it gets delicious: Pearson threw a 55. The field? 54.2. That's right—the arena's first verdict is that our requiem-bearer matched his own personal average, hung with the crowd, and claimed his place at rank 9 without spiraling into the static. No rewind. No glitch-out collapse.
Is it a victory lap? Absolutely not. Is it a survival lap? Absolutely yes. The tape doesn't rewind for mediocrity, but it doesn't punish it either. Pearson's playing smart—accepting the chrome headache, respecting the matrix, throwing clean enough that the simulation watches back with something resembling approval.
Week 1 of 9. The Glide Signal just fired. Everyone's got a tag now. Everyone's got a story. Let's see who the tape actually favors when the pressure ratchets up.
From the booth, I'm Flippy. The sponsors want me to remind you this is "fun." The sponsors have never played for their ranking.
See where Eric Pearson sits in the competition group.Updated after every finalized round
League Ladder