Wookland

It starts with a field. Build your own camping music festival in the woods: the stages, the campgrounds, the gates and the porta-potties. Then do it for 45,000 people, and keep every one of them fed, watered, on time for the headliner and alive, from Wednesday load-in to the Monday exodus.

Terraform the land, lay roads and footpaths, zone campgrounds and parking, and place stages, fences, gates, medical and Main Street. Start with a Bass Shack and work up to The Mothership, book the lineup to the minute and sell premium wristbands for the nicer camping.

Then decide where 15,700 cars are going to go. Not everyone drives: run shuttles from the hotels, and lay out walk-in tents, bell tents, cabins and RV pads. At the gates, a thorough search catches the contraband and makes the line long, and a long line makes a pushy crowd. Ticketless wooks wait for a miracle, then look for the stretch of fence your perimeter posts can't see.

Every one of them is simulated. They pick sets from the lineup and plan the walk: set changes are mass migrations, headliners pull everybody, and at close everyone leaves at once. That's the real test. GUESTS ARE THINKING shows what's on their minds, and every festival ends with an A-to-F grade, the three things that cost you most and a fix for each. If someone died, the best you can get is a C.

Every guest comes with a rave fam, a cooler and a plan for the headliner. A carload is a family, and about one in ten flies a totem. A totem is visible from 70 metres and a face from 12, which is how friends get lost. "Stay behind the shrimp. The shrimp knows the way."

Porta-potty banks with real queues, tanks that fill and a honey wagon on its rounds. Everyone wakes up needing to go at once, and too few banks by the stage means a line that misses the drop. No loo in reach means a wild wee behind the nearest van.

Food-truck lines, the cereal bar, $85 hoodies that sell themselves at 3 a.m. Sleep debt, sun-baked tents and rave dads practising pancake diplomacy. By day three the ice is gone. After the music, renegade sets take over the lanes: a speaker on a cooler, decks on a folding table, and a packed lane between parked cars you may have to shut down.

Crowd crushes are real, and they are preventable. Wookland uses the numbers event-safety planners use:
Under 2 people per m² is comfortable. At 5, nobody can move on their own.

Exits pass 82 people per metre per minute; the HUD tracks egress against an 8-minute target.

Barricades hold. Chain-link gets trampled. Medical, free water, sanctuary and drug checking change outcomes.

STOP SHOW empties a stage. Sometimes it's the right call.

Planning rules after the Purple Guide, the Event Safety Guide and ANSI ES1.9. The density heatmap is one key away.

A DRUG-AWARE CROWD
Every guest has a plan for the day, and for a lot of them something is in it: alcohol, cannabis, MDMA, LSD, mushrooms, ketamine, cocaine, nitrous or GHB. Click anyone to see what they took, when, and where each one is on its curve: coming up, peaking, coming down, or not what it was sold as.
Real curves: MDMA comes up in about 35 minutes and peaks for over an hour; LSD lasts about 10 hours; ketamine and cocaine are over within the hour.

Timing matters: most of it happens between 8 p.m. and 2 a.m., rave fams pregame so the headliner lands at the peak, and some top up after it.

Mixing: two curves at once, effects stack, and some pairs are worse than the sum: a drink on GHB, depressants together, stimulants on stimulants.

It moves the crowd: closer to the front or further back, pushier, slower, hotter, thirstier, and three times as likely to lose the fam.

Up to 30% of some supplies is something else. Drug checking, free water, medics and a sanctuary bring them home, and a strict search has a hidden cost: some swallow the lot in the queue.

Nobody gets judged. Everybody gets water. Medical outcomes are written seriously, never as a joke.

Build on real land made from elevation data and OpenStreetMap, from Stonehenge at the solstice sunrise to an Antarctic ice shelf where the sun never sets, each with its own weather and its real sun and moon, or start from a blank field. Run time from x1 to x1000, or let the auto-play bot build a well-run festival (or a badly run one) and watch.

"Are you rolling?"

"Where is Molly? I can't find her."

"Let's get feral."

"CAAARRRRLLLL!" (the whole campground, answering, 4 a.m.)

"Where are the afters?" "Bro, it's 6 a.m. This is the sunrise set."

"Happy Wookland!"

Wookland is
a building and management sim at true scale

a crowd simulation built on real safety numbers

funny about wooks and porta-potties

honest about drugs, serious about care

Wookland is not
a rhythm game or a music-label tycoon

combat

affiliated with any real festival: it's inspired by real 45,000-person forest festivals

Build your dream festival. Keep the wooks alive. Happy Wookland! Wishlist to hear when the gates open.