game making circle
A meditative world where players tend a miniature landscape, watching seasons shift in real-time. No objectives, no fail states — only the quiet satisfaction of growth.
An epistolary adventure told through letters found in an abandoned mountain post office. Each playthrough assembles a different story from the same fragments.
Arrange stones in a river to guide water flow. The puzzles are simple; the beauty of the solutions is the challenge. Inspired by karesansui garden design.
A sound-driven experience where the forest speaks. Players learn to identify birdsong, wind patterns, and the rhythm of rainfall to navigate unseen paths.
We make games the way a woodworker makes chairs. Not because the world needs another chair, but because the act of shaping something with your hands — of understanding the grain, of finding the joint that holds — is itself the point.
The game is not the product. The making is the practice.
MiRiS began as a conversation between friends who shared a dissatisfaction with how games are made — the crunch, the metrics, the relentless optimization of engagement. We wanted to make things that felt like they were carved from a single piece of wood: whole, honest, and imperfect.
Every project starts with a question, not a pitch. What does it feel like to tend something? What happens when a game asks nothing of you? Can silence be a mechanic? We sit with these questions the way a potter sits with clay — turning them over, letting them find their own shape.
We are not building an audience. We are tending a garden.
Our tools are simple. Our timelines are long. We release when the work feels ready — not when a sprint ends or a quarter closes. This is unsustainable by industry standards, and that is precisely the point. We are not an industry. We are a workshop.
If something here resonated, or if you simply want to sit by the fire and talk about making things — we would like that.
hello@miris.worksmiris.works — a place of rest and craft