rewind sound Let's see that rating drop again in slo-mo. The simulation loves dramatic replays. Scott Belchak threw a 943 round against a 921 PDGA rating—that's +22 over his baseline, and honestly? The void just got schooled. After two weeks of strategic absence (Week 8's no-show bumped him from 45 to 47), he resurfaces at the Final Reclaim and doesn't just show up—he shows up, posting a 50 that beats his personal average by 3 strokes and the field by 2.8. Tag #17 (the Obsidian Requiem) doesn't judge performance; it catalogs patterns. Belchak just rewrote the forecast: from 47 straight to 8 in a single week. Forty-nine positions claimed. The simulation's narrative broke. The dealer's baskets? Still stolen. But the crew's conductor just proved absence wasn't defeat—it was restraint.
Obsidian Requiem
Season Arc · Chainspotting @ Creekside
39All-In league: Obsidian Requiem stays with its holder — only its number moves with each week's standings.
Character Sheet
AI-written · FATE styleBorn from the scrapyard's deepest vault, where the dealer keeps only the baskets that have claimed the most victims. Obsidian Requiem emerged not from theft but from witness—it watched every crew fail, every attempt crumble, and learned the patterns of defeat so thoroughly it became the antithesis. The name was whispered by those who didn't make it back, a requiem for their ambitions, a prophecy of what awaits those who face true mastery.
Obsidian Requiem radiates an almost suffocating certainty. Its surface catches no light—it absorbs it, rendering judgment through absolute darkness. When invoked, the air itself seems to contract. There's no mercy in its construction, no flaw that an opponent might exploit. It moves through the arena like a dirge played at full volume, beautiful and terrible, impossible to ignore or escape.
The final statement. Obsidian Requiem doesn't negotiate survival—it dictates it. This entity stands at the precipice where ambition either crystallizes into legend or shatters into myth. Bearers carry the burden of inevitability; they are the outcome already written, the conclusion the arena has been leading toward since the crew first arrived.
Season Story
narrated by FlippyDue to absence from Week 8 (Rusted Chain Drop), tag number moved from 45 to 47. (Week 8 of 9)
adjusts headset Scott Belchak didn't just survive Week 2—he vaulted nine positions up the ladder, dragging the Obsidian Requiem from the Withdrawals tier (#17) straight into the Clean Breaks zone (#8). The void absorbed his doubt, cataloged his patterns, and apparently decided he'd learned his lesson. No round rating to measure the differential against his 921 PDGA baseline, but the arena doesn't lie: the scoreboard rendered its verdict in tag numbers, and Belchak answered back. The survivor's requiem just shifted key. drops announcer voice Look, I'm contractually mandated to make you care about plastic discs shuffling up a leaderboard, but when a curse-holder climbs that hard, even I'll admit the void's hold cracked. The crowd roars. The chains wait.
Born in the scrapyard's deepest vault where confidence goes to OB, the Obsidian Requiem watched every shank until it became pure spite. It absorbs light like a black ace absorbs dignity. A judgmental void waiting for your next grip-lock, it doesn’t hang on your bag; it sits there critiquing your snap and plotting your next bogey.
Scott Belchak didn't just grab Tag #17. The Obsidian Requiem chose him. Now it sits on his bag, a void absorbing his putt confidence and cataloging his grip-locks. Consider it a foreclosure notice on his birdies. The culling has begun.
Scott Belchak claimed Tag #17—the Obsidian Requiem—with a 921 PDGA rating, and then vanished from Hole Five Lockdown entirely. No score submitted. No round rating to calculate. No chance to defend his new tag against the field. The void doesn't judge performance; it judges presence. And the arena's verdict? Tag #17 has already begun its foreclosure notice on his birdies—not through brutality, but through absence. From the booth, I'm obligated to note: you can't survive The Culling if you don't show up. The Requiem sits on his bag, cataloging his next grip-lock from a distance. Consider this week's silence the opening movement of his requiem.