A fan adaptation built out of obsession, paper prototypes, and a childhood memory from California.
Calling All Playtesters
QuietQuotient is a UX designer based in Chicago. By day he designs financial interfaces — the kind of work that starts on paper and ends up on your desktop or mobile app. If you've traded a stock in the United States, you have probably used an interface designed by him. By night, apparently, it's much more low-fi. He builds board games starting with cardboard, spray paint, and sharpies.
The Blue Prince video game arrived at the right moment. Some extra time on a holiday break to play games became an obsession with the mysteries of the manor — and of the masterpiece of game design — from a singular vision and voice. After 100 hours in the shifting halls of Mt. Holly, the question stopped being what if it was a board game and started being why not. The rules existed in digital form — probability curves, room logic, a step economy tuned with precision by Tonda Ros and the Dogubomb team. The challenge was translating all of it into something you could touch, shuffle, and spill a drink on.
This is a non-commercial fan project. It will never be sold. The goal is to put something real on a table in front of people who love this game and watch what happens.
The puzzle continues. Contact me in Room 8.
There's an older story underneath this one. At age seven, a box arrived from California — a paper prototype of a board game his older cousin was building. It was called Skate or Die. It was completely white: no graphics, no color, just cardboard ramps and raw structure. A diorama of an idea.
That image — the white prototype, the thing before the thing — never left. It showed up decades later in UX work, in paper wireframes for complex financial systems, and now here, in a cloth bag full of handmade room tiles on a dining table in Chicago.