The guest tour

Nine taps
from invited
to obsessed.

Guests never make an account, never pick a password and never lose their link. Everything below is what one person sees, in the order they see it.

01 The message02 The RSVP03 The page04 The countdown 05 The vote06 The job07 The night08 The trophy 01 The message02 The RSVP03 The page04 The countdown 05 The vote06 The job07 The night08 The trophy

Step 01

A link with their
name on it.

The invitation arrives by email, WhatsApp, or both. Inside is a short personal link. Tapping it signs them in — on that phone, and on the laptop they open it on three weeks later.

  • No account. No password. No "check your inbox for a code".
  • Separate links straight to the RSVP, the dashboard, the leaderboard or the ballot, so a message can point at exactly the thing it's asking for.
  • Short codes short enough to sit inside a WhatsApp message without wrapping.
  • Sign in on one of your party domains and stay signed in on the next.
  • And when the link goes missing — deleted, buried in a thread, sent to an old address — they can sign in with Google, Microsoft, Apple or Yahoo, have the links emailed again, or have one texted to the mobile you hold for them, without you being asked to dig anything out.
The RSVP form on a phone
On a phonewhere it's opened
A party's pre-login box: sign in with Google, Microsoft, Apple or Yahoo, or type an email address
Lost the link · four more doorsguest view

Sometimes before step 01

Which Saturday
can you do?

When the party exists before its date does, the first thing a guest gets isn't an invitation — it's three dates and three buttons against each. Yes, maybe, no. Saved on the tap, one date at a time, from the same page they'll RSVP on later.

  • No form, no submit. Three answers per date, each one saved the moment it's pressed, and changeable until the host picks.
  • They see the question, not the tally. Who else can do the 12th is the host's business; the guest just says what suits them.
  • When the host picks, the yeses are in. Everyone who said yes to the winning day is marked Coming; everyone who said no isn't. A maybe stays a maybe until they say otherwise — nothing gets invented on their behalf.
A guest's date poll: three Saturdays in December, each with yes, maybe and no buttons, the chosen answers highlighted
The date pollthree taps, saved as you go
Full RSVP form with attendance, travel, dietary and custom questions
The RSVP formfully configurable

Step 02

An RSVP that
asks properly.

Three cards at the top — coming, not sure, not coming — and tapping one saves it, so the essential answer takes one tap and no Save button. Everything below it is optional, and everything below it is the stuff you'd otherwise be asking for individually in eleven separate WhatsApp threads.

  • Drinks so you buy the right things.
  • Dietary needs including allergies, flagged loudly to the host.
  • Nights staying and travel, so beds and lifts sort themselves out.
  • Five custom questions — yours, not ours. Entrance track, best party they've been to, what skill they're bringing.
  • A confession box, anonymous, that shows up on the wall at 1am.

Answering earns karma. Confessing earns more. It is a genuinely effective way to get people to fill in a form.

Step 03

Then they land on
their own party page.

A ticket with their name on it. A countdown. Their karma and how far off the next rank they are. A grid of tiles to everything the party has going on — only the tiles you turned on, in the wording you chose. And, under all of it, the wall: the first place guests write to each other rather than to you.

The guest dashboard with ticket, countdown, karma and tile grid
Guest dashboard · desktophype phase
The guest dashboard on a phone
Same page · phonewhere it lives
The wall on the party page: a comment box and six guests' comments about jumpers, the fire escape and the chilli
The wall · "chilli's on at nine"nothing pings anybody

The wall is deliberately quiet. Nothing posted to it notifies anyone, so it's somewhere to look when they open the page rather than something that goes off in forty pockets — and a line can be taken down by whoever wrote it, or by you.

Step 04

The page changes
as the night gets closer.

Guests don't want the same page in June that they want at 1am in August. They don't get it.

Before

Countdown

Days, hours and minutes. Who's coming so far. Info pages that unlock on your schedule. A nudge if they still haven't RSVP'd.

On the night

Tonight

A "Tonight" section appears above everything else with the DJ line-up and running order rendered inline, plus a one-tap voting panel. No hunting through menus at 2am.

After

Afterglow

The countdown becomes "days since". Results open. Photos appear. Badges land. The whole page turns into a souvenir.

The dashboard on the night, with the line-up and schedule inline
Party day · the Tonight sectionself-scheduling
The full running order, with a marker on the slots this guest is working
The running order · "you're on" markedguest view
A guest reading the schedule and asking the party AI in the corner what time to aim to arrive, and being told about their own job at sunset
Party AI · bottom right of every pageno app, no number

Any time they wonder

And there's someone
to ask.

A bubble in the corner of every page, answering in the party's own voice from the party's own data. What time, where, who's coming, what to bring, what they're down to help with, whether they said yes — instead of the fourth message this week to the person throwing it.

  • Without leaving the page. Someone halfway down the running order shouldn't have to go somewhere else to ask what time the taxis are.
  • No app, no number, no account. It's on the same dashboard everything else lives on, and there's a full chat page behind it for a longer conversation.
  • It knows this party, not parties in general — the actual date, the actual venue, the actual guest list, their own RSVP and their own jobs.
  • It doesn't know the private bits. No login links, no phone numbers, and never the anonymous confessions. An info page that hasn't unlocked yet stays unspoiled.
  • It can act, too. "Put me down as coming." "Vote for Deshaun." "Book me on the boat trip." "I'd like the shepherd's hut." "I land at Norwich at 17:20." Real writes, only ever for the guest asking — the page already knows who they are.
  • Send it a photo, a clip or a voice note — the sign they can't read, the state of the car park, the question they won't type on a train. Read once, answered in words.
  • It answers even when the models don't — the basics come from the party itself, so nobody gets an apology instead of an address.

The same assistant answers in the thread guests already use — on WhatsApp, on the host's own number or ours, and on Telegram — and /whoami tells a guest who it has them down as and what it can do for them.

The full party AI chat page, with a guest asking what time to turn up and what to bring
The full page, for a longer sit-downsame assistant
The same bubble inside the Field Day pre-built theme, renamed The Info Point, telling a guest which job they are leading
Inside a pre-built themeThe Info Point

Every one of the thirteen worlds renames it in its own voice — The Barman behind the speakeasy bar, Race Radio at the Tour, Q Branch in the spy thriller. A bubble labelled "Party AI" floating over a world they'd just walked into would give the game away.

Step 05

Then they start
competing.

Voting and polls. None of it is compulsory, all of it is the reason people open the page eleven times in a week.

Awards

Best dressed. Best dancefloor moment. Most likely to still be up at 6am. One vote per category, and a cheer message to go with it — which ends up on the TV wall beside the person they voted for.

Polls

What time should Saturday dinner be? Which stage gets the big rig? Single choice, multiple choice, or free text — anonymous if the question deserves it.

Live vote results with vote counts and cheer messages
Resultslive
Voting on a phone, category picker and nominee cards
Voting, on a phoneone tap

Step 06

And they start helping.

A jobs board anyone can claim from — split into before, the night, and the morning after. Firewood run, build the bar, Sunday breakfast crew. Guests put themselves on a job, tick off its steps, leave notes for each other, and mark it done — for karma, and a badge. On party night, their own duties top their dashboard in running order.

The party jobs board
Jobs boardself-serve

Step 07

And they read the numbers.

A statistics page guests can see: how the RSVPs split, which nights are busiest, the dietary spread, the drinks order, and everyone's answers to your questions.

Guest-facing party statistics page
Party statisticsguest view

If they have to travel

And who else is
on their flight.

They know where the party is. What they don't know is that somebody they like lands at the same airport forty minutes after them, or that the friend driving down has three empty seats. Guests log the flights, hotels and transfers they're taking, and the app does the rest of that sentence.

  • One entry each way — a flight, a train, a hire car, the hotel they booked because they're not staying at the venue. On their own page, or just by telling the party's assistant where they're landing.
  • They're told who lines up with them, and why“Also getting into Faro, 40 minutes apart”, not a score out of ten. Anybody driving with room to spare says so.
  • Any journey can be private. One tick, per entry: the flight shared, the hotel not. A private one reaches the host and no other guest, anywhere.
  • Nobody is asked for a booking reference. There is nowhere to put one — it's a password, and this is a page other guests can read. The flight number is the useful half anyway.
A guest's travel page: their outbound flight with four guests who line up with it named underneath, each with the reason in words
Who else is on their flightguest view
A guest's sleeping page showing their own room, the nights they have it, who they are sharing with, and which units are still free to ask for
Where you're sleepingguest view

If they're staying over

And they know which
bed is theirs.

For anything with beds in it — a weekend away, a wedding at a barn, a house party where half of them can't drive home — guests get their own page: which room, which nights, and who else is in it. No group chat archaeology, no shared spreadsheet nobody dares edit.

  • Their own arrangements, not everyone's. Their room, their nights, their roommates — and they can ask the party AI instead if they'd rather.
  • They can ask for what's free. Every room, tent and pitch shows how many spaces are left on each separate night; guests request one with a note, and it stays a request until the host says yes.
  • Only where it applies. Drinks in a flat has no beds and no tile — nothing to skip past.

If there's food

And what's for dinner,
and where they're sat.

Every sitting of the weekend, what's on it, and whether the kitchen knows about the thing they can't eat. One page, and the answer to the question everybody texts the host on the morning of.

  • The menu, by sitting. Saturday dinner, Sunday breakfast, what's being served at each and who's bringing it — with the dishes that suit a vegan, a coeliac or a nut allergy marked as such.
  • They tick what they're at, and the kitchen cooks the right amount. Leave it and they're counted in from their RSVP anyway, so a guest who never opens it still gets fed.
  • Their table, and who's on it. Once the host publishes the plan: which table, where in the room it is, and the names of the people they'll be sitting with.
  • Nobody else's business. They see their own answer and their own table — never who else is eating what, because what a named person can't eat isn't party gossip.
A guest's food page: every sitting of the wedding weekend with its menu and the diets each dish suits, their own tick per sitting, and their table with the names on it
Every sitting, and their tableguest view
A guest's activities page: the clay shooting at £45 a head with three places left and their own place paid, the free sauna, the coast walk, and the boat trip
What's on, and what's leftguest view

If there's more on

And they can put
their name down.

The clay shooting, the boat trip, the sauna hour, the club night — the things beside the party itself that have a set number of places and usually a price. One page: what's on, what it costs, how many places are left, and what they're down for.

  • They book themselves in, and bring somebody if they're allowed to — a plus-one takes two of the places, so the boat never sails overloaded.
  • A full one takes their name anyway. They go on the waiting list and are told so plainly, rather than being turned away and left wondering.
  • They know what they owe, and nobody else does. Their own balance only — what a guest owes the host is between the two of them.
  • Out is always allowed. Sign-ups can close; dropping out never does, because the host would far rather know tonight than find a paid-for seat empty.

Step 08

Then the party ends,
and the good part starts.

Badges are awarded. Karma settles. And every guest has a trophy cabinet and a Party Journey that carries across every party you've ever thrown — which is exactly what makes the next invitation land differently.

  • Trophy cabinet — rank, karma, badges, and the photos they're tagged in.
  • Party Journey — every party they've been on the list for, what they earned at each, and what's still available at the next one.
  • Leaderboard — the whole community ranked, with a podium.
  • Corrections — a form for arguing about it, because someone always will.
A guest's Party Journey showing each party as a stop
Party Journeyall-time
A guest's trophy cabinet on a phone
Trophy cabinetphone

Optional extra

And if they want to
get properly silly.

One tile on the dashboard hands the whole guest experience over to a theme. Every page they can visit gets rewritten — the RSVP wording, the countdown, the leaderboard, the badges. There are thirteen worlds to choose from, each with its own ambient sound and its own name for the party AI.

Which world a party lives in is the host's call — one button, per party. A world the host leaves stays an optional door guests may wander into, and leaving that one is one tap in its own navigation.

The party hub as the back room of a prohibition bar
Same partyThe Speakeasy
The party hub as a greenfield festival at dusk
Same partyField Day
The party hub as a Venetian masked ball
Same partyThe Masquerade

That's their side

Now see what
you get.

Closed beta — new accounts are let in by hand.