Party trivia, about you
Everyone answers a few things about themselves on their phone. The game builds the rounds out of those answers. Nobody has played this particular game before, because nobody has had this particular group of friends before.
Players need no app and no account. Free to start.
A code on the big screen, or a QR to point a camera at. No app to install, no account to make, no waiting for the slowest person to find the App Store.
A few minutes of questions, answered privately. Nobody sees anybody else's answers — that is the whole point of what happens next.
Not a trivia database. The rounds are made out of what the people in the room just told it, which is why nobody has played this particular game before.
Some of them you wanted to know. The host drives the pace from their phone, the big screen does the rest, and the leaderboard settles the arguments.
Not a mock-up. These are pulled straight out of the question library the game plays from, which currently holds over a thousand of them.
What was your very first paying job?
Does the milk go in before the tea?
How many browser tabs do you have open right now?
Photograph the inside of your fridge, exactly as it is right now.
What is something you are irrationally afraid of?
An answer goes up. The room decides whose it is.
Somebody in this room admitted to something. The screen shows what they said, not who said it. Get it wrong and you have just told everyone who you think is capable of that.
Four answers, one of them true.
Do you actually know your oldest friend's first job, or have you just known them a long time? These are not the same thing, and this round finds out which.
A number nobody wants to say out loud.
How many countries, how many jobs, how many broken bones. Closest guess takes it, and the real answer is usually the reason the table goes quiet for a second.
Forget what you think. What will everyone else say?
There is no right answer, only whatever this particular room votes for. The point of the round is finding out that you are the only person here who puts the milk in first.
Everyone photographed the same thing. Whose is whose?
The inside of a fridge. The shoes they wear most. It turns out you can identify a friend from their kitchen shelf, and it turns out that is very funny.
Three levels. The host picks one, and any player can set themselves stricter than the room without anybody else being told. These are the After Dark ones — the level most evenings actually end up on.
Describe the worst date you have ever been on.
What is the worst decision you have made after midnight?
Texting an ex at 2am:
What do you eat when drunk that you would deny sober?
What is something you have never told the people in this room?
There is a third level, and it is not for the office party.
Explicit questions about sex and the rest of it. You have to be 18 to look at the examples, which we are checking in the least convincing way available.
Three content levels, picked by the host and capped further by any player who wants it milder. Nobody gets asked something they did not sign up for.
Start, pause, skip a question, extend the timer, hold an intermission. The big screen follows. You can do the whole night one-handed with a drink in the other.
Somebody arriving forty minutes in gets a short set of questions and joins the next round. No restarting, no sitting out.
Room still going at the end? Extend it and the game builds a fresh set of questions from material it has not used yet.
Players decide category by category what survives the night, and can delete everything at any time. Answers can be given anonymously, and a profile can be declined outright.
Tested down to a 320-pixel screen and built to WCAG 2.2 AA — keyboard, screen reader, reduced motion, and text at whatever size somebody needs it.
Illustrative — the sort of thing that happens, not quotes from named customers.
“Twenty minutes in, somebody's mother-in-law was explaining a tattoo nobody knew she had. That was not on the agenda.”
“We stopped playing at some point and just kept talking. I count that as the game working, not failing.”
“I have known him for eleven years and I got his first job wrong. In front of everyone. He has not let it go.”
Nothing a player types is kept after the event unless they choose to keep it, category by category, and they can delete all of it at any point.Answers can be given anonymously. A profile can be declined outright. Any question can be skipped, and it costs nothing but the points.None of that changes between the free tier and the paid ones.
It takes about five minutes to set up and it is free to try with up to eight people.
Which way should the roll hang?
How many bones have you broken?
What is a completely useless talent you have?
Nightclubs after thirty: