register: product (a tool UI; design serves the task, not the marketing).
A two-pane instrument for selecting and ordering items out of a virtual list of one million ids. Left pane: everything not yet picked. Right pane: your picks, in an order you set by dragging, persisted on the server. Filter by id, infinite scroll, add arbitrary new ids. Built as a fullstack engineering test task; the interface is the proof that the hard parts (a never-materialised million-row universe, a server-side dedup-and-batch queue, drag-sort that survives filtering) actually work.
One viewer at a time: an engineer or a hiring reviewer poking at the demo on a desktop, in focus, evaluating whether the mechanics are correct and the craft is real. They will try to break it: filter to nothing, select hundreds, reorder mid-filter, reload to check persistence. The UI must make the underlying behaviour legible at a glance, not hide it.
Precise, calm, engineering-first. The site is the resume: proof over claim. No marketing voice, no hype, no emoji. Numbers are the content, so numbers are treated with typographic respect (tabular, aligned, unambiguous). Quiet confidence; a single deliberate flourish, not decoration everywhere.
Named for Regulus, the brightest star in Leo, historically "the little king." That royalty is the one license for warmth: a single gold accent against cool, near-black neutrals. The accent marks intent and state (focus, the act of selecting/ordering), never decoration.
- The default "developer tool" reflex: flat slate-grey on dark-blue with a generic blue accent. Regulus is cooler in the neutrals and warm in the one accent, on purpose.
- Card-grid dashboards, hero-metric blocks, gradient text, glassmorphism.
- Anything that reads as "an AI generated a CRUD demo."
- State must be visible: what is selected, in what order, and that it persisted, should be obvious without reading docs.
- Latency is honest: actions flow through a 1s/10s queue, so pending states are shown, never faked away.
- One flourish, earned: the title and the act of moving an item can carry personality; the rows themselves stay quiet and scannable.