{% set page_title = 'About' %} {% include '_header.html' %} {#- The identity page. Login-required like everything else: this is not a public shopfront, it is the one page where the thing watching your systems introduces itself to the people who run them. It is also the sanctioned home for motion. The dashboard is deliberately still — anything moving there competes with the one signal that should — so the gaze blinks here and the hero watches here, and nowhere else. Everything still stops for `prefers-reduced-motion`. -#}

{#- **One hero, and the page is the animation.** The identity used to be told three times over — the bar, this block, and an eye of its own inside a dark panel below the story — which is three claims on the same attention and no hierarchy at all. So the gaze *is* the stage now: the terms she watches orbit behind these eyes, on the page's own canvas, at the prose's own width, and the animation **settles** before the story starts rather than running under it. Colour carries one meaning each: **green is seen**, and it is spent only on the term passing the eyes and on the phrase in the paragraph that term names — which is what makes *my eyes stay on the things you care about* literal rather than decorative. **Pink is her**, and nothing else takes it. Everything at rest is muted. Monospace is for the **signals** only: a term is a machine's word, a sentence is hers, and the two should not be set in one face. Decorative, so `aria-hidden` — a screen reader is handed the prose, which says the same thing better. All of it stops for `prefers-reduced-motion`: the rings do not turn, nothing is drawn as *seen*, and the lines stand still on the last one. -#}

{% set brand_figure = 'gaze' %} {% include '_brand.html' %}

little-sister {{ version }}

{#- What she says while she watches: a clause, then a sentence, then the nine-line ending — different lengths on purpose, because a page that always speaks in one rhythm stops being read. Drawn per render from `watch_lines.py`; the ending never is. -#}

I am little sister.

Unlike Big Brother, I’m not watching you — I’m watching for you. My eyes stay on the things you care about: {# The four topics the hero can light. Each carries the name of a signal on the inner ring, so the prose and the orbit are the same list said twice — once as machine words, once as English. #} disks filling up, batch jobs failing, security advisories appearing, and automated workflows turning red.

You decide where I look. I’ll keep watch and let you know when something needs your attention, so you can work peacefully — and sleep calmly.

{# the closing line is an epigram, not another paragraph #}

Big Brother watches you, little sister watches out for you.

{#- The repository link is a footnote, not a chapter break: it used to sit between the story and what came after it, interrupting the one to introduce the other. -#}

github.com/m-31/little-sister

{% include '_page_end.html' %}