Everything starts the same way: a set drawn flat, characters with thick outlines, and a story told at whatever length it needs, from a short one to ten minutes.
Little stories about the world around us.
Milo and his rabbit go to the market, the doctor, the zoo, the seaside — and the thing being talked about lights up on screen, so a small viewer learns the word as they hear it. Written in seven languages.
A small island and six friends who live on it.
Built as a game rather than a film: the island, the forest and every face are made by code, and up to six kids can join an episode on their phones — what they do becomes the episode we render. When there is a channel, it lands here.
No channel to visit yet
No stock assets, no asset store, no render farm. An episode is written, performed and exported in a browser tab, by software we wrote for exactly this.
Scenes, sets and marks. Walks are timed from real distances, lines from how long they take to say.
Home, garden, market, school, the doctor, days out. Drawn wide, so the camera can follow a small boy across them.
English, Spanish, French, Portuguese, Italian, Hindi and Marathi — spoken in the browser, captioned to match.
No stock models, no asset store, no render farm. Every tree, face and jingle is generated, in 2D and in 3D, and the same kit draws the games.
One of you opens a page, reads four numbers out loud, and up to four of you are in the same room together. Nothing to install, nothing for sale inside.
Two of us, evenings and weekends. We wanted our children to have something to watch that taught them a word or two, and something to play that was not a shop with a game bolted on. Both got out of hand.
Nothing here has an advert in it, and nothing asks for money.
Our own drawing kit, our own renderer, our own relay for the games, our own little film studio for the cartoons. Owning the whole pipeline is half the fun and all of the control.