A cast of companions who live on your screens: along the Dock, on a desk display, on a tiny round screen by your keyboard. They wander, they nap, they notice your day.
Nimolo is a small household of characters who live on the screens around you. Each one has a personality, a mood, and a memory of the day. They stroll between screens the way pets wander between rooms, greet each other when they meet, and settle down when the house goes quiet. They ask for nothing: no feeding timers, no guilt, no streaks. A companion who is switched off is simply asleep.
Every screen is a room in one house: the laptop, a desk display, a colour touchscreen, a tiny monochrome panel. Companions walk off one edge and arrive on the next, and if a screen goes dark, whoever was in it teleports somewhere lit.
Each companion has traits, a voice, and a repertoire. Some are characters. Two of them are something stranger: working AI agents, embodied, so the character on screen is the agent itself, thinking when it thinks and idle when it rests. When an agent is away, an understudy plays the part, and says so.
The house can see the shape of your day: what app you are in, how long you have been focused, when the next meeting lands. Companions react honestly to that signal: a heads-up before a call, a nudge to take a break an hour in, a welcome back when you return.
A single coordinator keeps the cast consistent across every screen, while each screen renders in its own way, from full physics and speech on the Mac to a 1-bit face on the smallest panel. The same arrival, everywhere.
Nimolo is a made-up word. It means nothing in any language we could find, which leaves it free to come to mean this: the little household that lives in the screens with you.