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.
The engine, the escrow and the wire were all in place; nothing had a browser on
the end of it. This is that end: a lobby, a table, and the five endpoints between
them.
The browser holds no game. It sends intents and gets back a view — the cards it
is entitled to see, and the script of how they arrived, one event per card off
the shoe. The dealer's hole card is not in the payload at all until the reveal,
because a field the client is told to ignore is a field somebody reads in
devtools. The shoe lives in game_live_hands, which also means a redeploy
mid-hand no longer costs a player their stake: the hand is still there when they
come back.
The money is ordered so nothing can be spent twice. The stake leaves the stack in
the same statement that checks it exists, before a card is dealt. Every new hand
is seated with a plain INSERT, so a double-clicked Deal is decided by the primary
key rather than by a read that raced — it loses, gets its chips back, and the
hand in progress is untouched. A double takes its raise up front and hands it
straight back if the engine refuses the move.
Cards are dealt rather than swapped in — they fly out of the shoe and turn over,
which was a requirement and not a flourish. The faces and the chips are still
plain; that's next.
Three bearer-authed endpoints and gogobee can work the border: poll what's
waiting, claim a row, report what happened to the money. The storage layer
underneath was already done; this is the transport, and deliberately nothing
more.
All three are idempotent, because the thing on the other end of them is a
retrying queue and the thing they move is money. A verdict delivered three
times creates chips once. A rejected buy-in moves nothing and clears the
pending amount so it stops eating the table cap. A cash-out gogobee couldn't
pay gives the chips back rather than vanishing them from both sides.
A verdict for a row Pete has never heard of is a 400, not a shrug: gogobee has
by then moved real euros against it, and no amount of retrying invents the
missing row. Under the contract the adventure seam set, a 400 parks it in
gogobee's queue where a human can find it.
