Every prototype below is the same screen — the “On Air” landing page — with the same content, same layout intent and the same live race stream. Only the look and feel changes. That's deliberate: it's the only way to judge a visual direction without also arguing about information architecture.
Data floats over the feed. A timing tower locked to the right edge, lower-third bottom-left. Amber is used for exactly one thing: the live state.
Data sits beside the feed in stencilled panels rather than on top of it. A hazard-striped banner names your pilot and their position in plain language.
Type sits outside the image the way a printed bill works. The feed becomes a framed photographic plate with a caption bar beneath it.
Adds what no other take has: a gap-to-leader trace, sector splits, and a Δ-lap column showing who is gaining right now. Your pilot is magenta against an ice-blue field.
Frosted panels over the feed, chamfered corners on everything, corner brackets and a slow scan sweep. Cyan is the interface; violet marks what's yours.
The anti-E: no glow, no glass, no chamfers. Matte graphite, hard rectangles, a strict module grid — every panel addressed like an instrument. One colour, used only for live state and you.
Deliberately not thematic: soft radii, calm neutrals, one indigo accent, elevation instead of borders everywhere. What modern software actually ships — useful as a baseline to judge the rest against.
Saturated magenta and electric cyan on violet-black, hard glow, skewed cuts, scanlines. The register an esports broadcast uses. If it's too much, it tells you how far the others can safely go.
The only warm direction. The tracks are canyons under Golden Hour, so the interface is built from sand and low sun rather than from a HUD: bone on warm stone, oxide orange, one sage green.