drag a critter in
- SEED
- — — — —
- PX
- — × —
- HUE
- —
- STATUS
- idle
press SPAWN again to re-roll the face & limbs — the body stays yours.
SPECIMEN
bends every creature the machine has made — in the chamber and out on the bench. double-click a slider to flatten it.
—
- VIBE
- CHAOS
- GLOW
- HEFT
nothing spawned yet. the chamber is cold.
nothing on the ballot.
one ballot per issue
tallies update live
voting happens at the machine — press put it on the machine on any open question, mark the ballot and post it. one ballot per question; post another to change your mind.
you read new questions first, can close a vote early, and can take a question down.
you can do everything a moderator can, plus dig, drain, move the line and stir the hill.
tarps stay tarps until something is on the bench. gnome's orders.
you can peek under tarps and leave notes; only the owner moves things.
slide progress, move things bench ⇄ tarp, and ship. the gnome does the rest.
the museum is open. admission is free.
draw, sign, submit. one vote per drawing — tap the star again to take it back.
you can take a drawing down off its easel. the wall itself is beyond you.
you close the cycle: one drawing framed forever, the rest built over. no appeals.
built over: —
closing frames the top-voted drawing and builds over the rest. dusting forgets the lot.
one vote per landmark. putting a name forward takes your vote with it; tap another name and the vote walks over.
you can strike a name off a ballot. it stays up, crossed out, so everyone can see what was nearly allowed.
you set the line, can christen a name straight through, and can make the hill mutter.
names stick forever. nothing here un-names.
muttering is one to three stray votes. the hill has opinions.
powers: none. duties: wandering. the sash is dry-clean only.
you're on the ballot. straighten your hat.
one vote, and it moves with you. one candidacy per device. the mayor cannot help you.
you can strike a candidate off the ballot, or pardon them back on. strike sparingly — gnomes remember.
you can count the ballots early, dissolve the office, and make the hill turn out.
The Law of the Hill
We, the assembled of the hill, being of sound-ish mind and one shared lawn, set down what has carried.
The Changelog
press to stamp what has carried. press again whenever history moves — the wax doesn't mind.
you read. that is the whole role, and honestly the best one.
you keep the margins tidy. there is no button for this — it is more of a calling.
you apply the seal. the law is exactly as binding either way.
— of — blocks
one block per shift, signed or not. the ledger remembers either way.
you can prise out a wonky block — the last one laid. the hill pretends not to notice.
you call the shifts, borrow the hill's hands, and — if it must be said — tear the whole thing down.
one keepsake per device — a note or a drawing, not both. no take-backs; that is what buried means.
you can give the chest a shake and hear roughly how full it is. roughly.
you set the day, seal the lid, crack it early — and after the spill, bury a fresh one.
WANTED
DEAD · NOT ALIVE
REWARD: ETERNAL GRATITUDE · HATCHES IN THE PEN AS A SPECK
tap a bug to read it · me-toos make it grow and mutate · swat it when it's fixed and it hangs in the barn
you can mark one can't reproduce — it rolls onto its back, stops growing, and waits to be believed.
you swat them, and a swatted bug is a fixed bug — it goes up in the barn with the date on it.
printed on the side, because we are not monsters.
it takes time, not money. one capsule every so often, a few bank up, and it keeps counting while you are away.
you can see what is loaded next, and hang the sign if it is being got at.
you set the round, rig the next one, and can empty a cabinet. all three are a choice.
nothing is playing. press the big one.
every note is made up on the spot — there is not an audio file anywhere in this project. drag a knob, double-click it to put it back.
the same six the coming-soon page pretends to play. these ones are real, in the sense that anything generated is real.
it goes up on the paper in the middle of what you are looking at — or exactly where you dropped it, if you dropped it on the paper itself. a gif turns; a still sits there.
kept on this device · never uploaded
nothing up yet
drag a pinned picture anywhere on the paper. click one to dress it up. you can take down your own.
you can take down anybody's, not just your own.
the works, below, set how big they land and whether visitors may put any up.
whatever goes in is shrunk to fit before it is kept — a photo out of a phone lands at about 60KB. a gif is kept whole, so it turns, and is refused rather than ruined if it is too big.
nothing kept on this device yet
pictures live in this browser's own storage, which is a few megabytes for the whole bench. the drum asks for the room before it promises a picture, and says so plainly when there is none left.
the board is shared by every WINDOW of this page open on this machine — open the lab twice and the two really do talk. it cannot reach another machine; that needs a server, and there isn't one.
your handle belongs to this window, not this device — a second window is somebody else, and a reload is still you. hover a line of your own to take it back.
you can take back anybody's line, and you write the notes taped to the case.
you write the notes, add and take them off, and the works lock or wipe the board.
locked, only moderators and you may type. everybody can still read it.
the last 120 lines are kept, on this device, and the oldest scroll off the top. nothing said here leaves the browser.
the official dispatch rig of the hill · one paper per day of news, sealed in wax
EVERY DISPATCH EVER PRINTED · FREE
the press reads the bench. every petition that carries, thing that ships, mayor that is elected, drawing that is varnished, landmark that is named and bug that is swatted turns up in the next morning's paper — and the owner sets the letter in the wax, below.
stays on this device — nothing is uploaded.
drop a picture to begin
reading the hill…