The room should
be the point.

Share your place to see the place.
One room keeps a name back.

Crosspath

Remembers the compatible people whose path crossed yours, where, and when.

Nearby

Shows the compatible members around you right now, ordered by distance.

Nectar Pool

Lets members gather at a real place, on a real night, under a real moon.

One symmetric choice

Keep your location to yourself and you are invisible on Human Ground, and Human Ground is invisible to you. The deal is the same in both directions. One room is different by design: in a pool's chat a woman speaks under an alias until she chooses to be seen, while she can read the profile of the man she is speaking to. Sapiomate knows who she is throughout.

The oldest matchmaker
is coincidence.

Two people in the same bookshop on the same rainy Tuesday. The same train, three mornings in a row. Cities are full of near-misses, and most stay missed, because there is no way to know that the person who just passed you was also, quietly, hoping to meet someone who intends to marry.

Crosspath makes that near-miss legible. When two opted-in, compatible members are in the same small area at the same time, about half a kilometre across, a crossing is recorded. Not a chase. Not a live alert. Not a map of strangers. Just a quiet fact: your paths touched, here, at this hour. Cross the same person again and the record remembers.

What makes it feel uncanny is not the technology. It is that the crossing is true. No algorithm placed this person in front of you. The city did. You were both really there. What the encounter might mean is yours to decide.

Interest is shown
only where it belongs.

Human Ground does the one thing coincidence cannot do on its own. It lets you say something quietly. Express interest in a crossing, and the other person sees it on that crossing, the next time they choose to look. You can send the same person a notice three times in all, and the app tells you how many are left; it also asks before you take one back, because a feeling does not need undoing in a hurry. Any notification about it says only that someone you crossed is interested, never who. If they feel the same and say so, the crossing becomes mutual. Nobody else ever sees it.

The app never interrupts you with a crossing in the moment. That silence is intentional. You discover crossings when you choose to look, in a private record that reads more like a diary of places than a feed of strangers.

• One areaabout half a kilometre across, is a crossing
• 1 hourbefore the same pair can cross again
• 7 daysand a crossing fades
• 30 daysfor one that became mutual

Pause it. Keep places quiet.
Clear it all.

Crosspath is a record of your movements, however coarse, so it answers to you. Three controls sit with it in the app, and none of them needs Human Ground switched on, so you can always reach them.

Pause Crosspath

Nothing is recorded, for you or for anyone you pass, and you leave everyone's crossings, your own included. Nearby and pools stay on. Resume whenever you like; nothing from the pause comes back, because nothing was kept.

Quiet places

Name up to five places, home or work or wherever you would rather not be noticed, at half a kilometre, one kilometre or two around. No crossing is recorded there, for you or for anyone who passes you there. We keep the area, never the spot you stood on, and naming a place also deletes the crossings already recorded in it.

Clear my crossings

One button deletes every crossing you have, the faded ones too, along with the record of what you did on them and any notification about them still waiting to be sent. A crossing belongs to two people, so it goes for the other person too. It cannot be undone.

Clearing is for your privacy. It is not a way to erase how you treated someone, and three things make sure of it. If a crossing showed someone coming close to a person who had blocked them, or sending interest again and again to someone who never answered, our safety team keeps that note for its own period. The limits on a pair outlast a clear: how many times interest was sent, how often the two crossed in one place, and the hour before they can cross again, kept for ninety days with no place and no names shown to anyone. And if the other person has reported you, or a safety case is open, the crossing disappears for both of you at once but is kept for the person reviewing it, then deleted when the review ends.

Who is around you now.
Nothing more.

Nearby is the plain-spoken expression of the same belief. Here are the compatible members around you, ordered by distance. It answers the question you might ask on a Saturday afternoon in a new neighbourhood, and it does not try to answer anything else.

The moon is the clock.

Nectar Pool is where the idea becomes a calendar. A pool is a real place, a café or a bar or a park, opened by an eligible member with a short note that sets the tone for who should come. She draws a fence around it, 30, 50 or 100 metres, and a compatible member joins from inside that fence. Where she allows it, a man may enter from elsewhere, and the pool shows that he did. Nobody scrolls a pool. You decide whether to walk in.

1. Bright fortnight From the new moon toward the full, pools open and people join.
2. Full moon Pools freeze. Membership locks. The gathering that formed is the gathering there is.
3. Dark fortnight The gathering holds as it formed.
4. New moon Every pool closes, and the cycle begins again from nothing.
5. Amavasya, and Ambubachi On the new moon itself, and for the three days of the Ambubachi Mela each June, Nectar Pool pauses entirely.

The cadence is not decoration. It gives the feature a rhythm people can feel: a season to open, a season to commit, a season to rest, and then a fresh beginning that owes nothing to the last one.