The Casino Night light strip was a dim blurred stripe that jumped every
cycle (it slid further than the bulb pattern repeats). Now it's a row of
round bulbs with a white-hot core and a real glow, and the chase travels
exactly one bulb-period so it loops seamlessly. Dropped the 'Chips are
euros' line under the room name; the welcome card and house rules already
say it.
Claude-Session: https://claude.ai/code/session_013M5nD7PgUboJXoDcYHzpuJ
We never had Open Graph on the casino, and adding meta tags would not have
fixed it. Every route was behind requirePlayer, so a link pasted into a chat
window got a 302 to sign-in and unfurled as whatever the auth screen said:
"parodia.dev", no image, no description. Tags on a page a stranger cannot
fetch are tags nobody reads. So the casino now has a front door — a real page,
served to anybody, that says what the place is and offers a way in. You still
can't play from it, and every table still bounces you to sign-in.
The share card is drawn in Go rather than checked in as a picture, because the
casino has two names on a clock and the card keeps the joke: paste the link in
daylight and you get Casinopolis on green felt, paste it after six and the neon
is on and it says Casino Night Zone. Same roomAt() rule as everywhere else,
except the clock that decides is the server's — an unfurl bot has no evening of
its own. Both cards are drawn once, at first ask, and kept.
Two things worth keeping from building it. color.RGBA is alpha-premultiplied,
and the lamp over the table wrote raw channels next to a low alpha, which is
not a dim glow but an invalid colour: image/draw ran it past 255 and wrapped
the hue, and the first card came out with a blue dome over a green stripe. If
a colour here ever comes out impossible, look for a missing premultiply. And
og:image has to be an absolute URL that actually resolves, which is two
different addresses depending on how you arrived: /og.png on the games host
(hostRouter puts the /games back on) and /games/og.png anywhere else. The dev
rig advertised the first while serving only the second. The test now reads the
URL off the page and goes and fetches it, on both hosts, because an og:image
that 404s is worth exactly as much as no og:image.
Fredoka is vendored (OFL) — the page can reach for a font over the network and
a server drawing a PNG cannot.
Claude-Session: https://claude.ai/code/session_013M5nD7PgUboJXoDcYHzpuJ
Three things, and the first one was a bug.
Your own hand didn't move until the lap ended. bump() keeps the bots'
fans honest and has always refused seat zero, and nothing else touched
yours — so a +4 landing on you at the top of a lap put four backs into
your hand and then nothing, and the cards themselves turned up seconds
later when the script finished and paint() finally ran. You spent the
whole lap looking at a hand you no longer held. The engine now stamps
your hand onto every event that changes it (Event.Hand, seat zero only,
which is the one hand the browser is already entitled to see) and the
table redraws as the cards land. Measured in the running app: 2 -> 3
cards at 414ms into a 1791ms lap.
You couldn't call UNO, and not because the button was missing: going
down to one card *was* the call. discard() fired the uno event by
itself, which made it a thing that happened to you rather than a thing
you did, and a rule nobody can fail is not a rule. So now you say it or
you don't (Move.Uno), and if you don't, every bot still in the game gets
one look at you before any of them plays — because a bot that has moved
on is a bot that has stopped watching your hand. It runs the other way
too, and that half is the fun one: a bot forgets often enough to be
worth watching for, and when it does it says *nothing*. No event, no
badge, no tell on the felt except the count beside its fan reading
"1 card". Catch it and it takes two; call a seat that had nothing to
hide and you take two yourself, which is what stops the catch button
from being a thing you simply mash.
Which cards owe the call is the engine's answer, not a count of your
hand: No Mercy's "discard all" takes every card of its colour with it,
so a six-card hand can land on one, and a browser subtracting one from
six walks you into a catch it never warned you about.
And the room was silent. Every sound in here is *made* — an oscillator,
a burst of filtered noise, an envelope — the same bargain the weather
engine takes with its clouds. A card is a slap of noise through a
bandpass, a chip is two detuned sines with a knock on the front, a win
is four notes going up. No asset files, no round trips, and a sound can
be pitched and detuned per call instead of being the same wav three
hundred times. Hooked into the FX layer rather than into the games, so
every table that throws a chip or turns a card got it at once.
The multiples moved, and the test that exists to catch that caught it.
The naive strategy now calls UNO, because calling is a button and not a
strategy — what these tiers price is bad card play, not a player who
ignores the felt shouting at them — and on that footing the normal
tables come back to where they were (40.1 / 28.5 / 23.1). No Mercy Full
House did not: it was paying a *negative* house edge, which is the house
paying you to sit down. Re-priced 3.8 -> 3.5.
Claude-Session: https://claude.ai/code/session_013M5nD7PgUboJXoDcYHzpuJ
The tables were living in the news app's shell: Pete's face in the header
and the footer, the channel nav, search, the reader, the weather canvas,
the PWA. A casino is not a news page with a felt on it.
So it gets its own layout. What carries over is the design language — the
four palette vars, Fredoka/Nunito, the fat rounded cards, the dropped
shadow. What doesn't is every control it has no use for. gamesPage stops
embedding the news pageData, which is what keeps the furniture from
drifting back one convenient field at a time.
It keeps a clock, but tells a different joke with it: Casinopolis by day,
Casino Night Zone from six, palette and felt and the sign over the door all
changing together. The rule lives in roomAt() for the first paint and again
in the browser, so a player abroad gets their own evening.
And the cards are cards now — corner indices in both corners, the bottom
one upside down as printed, pips on the three-by-seven grid every real deck
has used for four hundred years, courts as a letter with the suit over each
shoulder. Driven in a real browser, both rooms, dealt through to a payout.
