ScatterGun

After the Death of Rūaumoko — your writing whare
ONLINE · ZERO LINE
checking… · vaulted
ahorangi.io ↗

How this works — one script, one piece at a time.
Your script is one whole taonga — it lives in The Script, the first window, under your title and your name. Here in the Writer you build it one chunk at a time — a chunk is just the piece you're working on now: a scene, a beat, a burst. Everything you type in the window below lands in the open chunk, and the whare stitches every chunk, in order, straight into your script — automatically, as you type. Change a word here, it changes there. Finished a piece? + new chunk starts the next one and the script grows. Tap any chunk above to jump back into it. Nothing is ever lost — versions seal themselves as you go.

Kete Kupu — the word net

Mid-line and need the word? Search in English or te reo — macrons optional. Your own loaded kete answers first, badged gold; then the ahorangi corpus — 5,414 kupu, kīwaha, kupu whakarite and sacred names from your own docs, badged green; then the seed lexicon; Te Aka one tap away for the full authority.

Te Wetereo Ahorangi — the locked grammar

The ahorangi Māori grammar book, locked in and immovable inside this kurawaka. Every reo line in this whare — every pair, every transcreation — follows these exact structures, specifically, not generally. The doing comes first; the neuters take “i”, never “e”; mōhio and aroha take “ki”; mā pairs with e, nā pairs with i. This is the unique language of clarity — the worldview carried whole.
transcreation law included — meaning carried, never word-swapped
0 words0 chunks line: actionvaulted
The memorial hall at night — candles, string lights, and Rūaumoko's photograph watching over the whānau
The night it begins. The hall, the candles, the boy in the photograph. Everything in this whare walks back to this room — and out to the beach.

The Kaupapa Page

One page per story. Title, logline, synopsis, the worlds, the web. Everything here is yours — edit it all.

The Three Worlds

Where the next draft lives. Tag each chunk to its world in the Writer.

The Web — who gave, who took, who owes

Witnesses

The ones who do not argue. They remember. What they saw.

The Questions Underneath

Open Threads

Pink mushrooms blooming from volcanic sand, the maunga across the water

Media — the kete

Video and sound live here in the online whare (kept out of the offline cell for weight). Paste a link — a rehearsal take, a song, an image — and it pins to the kaupapa. Nothing uploads; the file stays where it lives, this is a window to it. Loads when you are online.

Rangahau — the research door

Serious granular research rides the ahorangi core: you ask, the engine goes to the high shelves — peer-reviewed, primary sources, named holders — synthesises the best available in the world, and the whakapapa of every claim is kept so it can be checked. While you write, these doors open the same shelves direct:
Every answer that matters carries its whakapapa — source named, holder named — or it doesn't land.
👁 Te Whatu — the Eyethe lay of the land, the names, the kōrero — Tūwharetoa · Tūhoe — reconnaissance without leaving the desk

The Whare — how this works

This whare holds ancestral intelligence — not artificial intelligence. It does not write for you and it does not advise from outside. You are the carver of your house; this is the adze. It reads only what you carve, against the whakapapa of your story — the web you have inputted, held here, in this file, on this device. Nothing leaves. Nothing is sold. Your mana motuhake stands from the first word.

It watches the shape — centre, lines of love, worlds, witnesses, reo, narration load — and offers the next best move toward optimal flow. Take what serves. Leave the rest. The story is yours.

Resonance — right now

The Whare offers

Options for the next turn. Refreshed every time you save a chunk — or ask now.

The Six Anchors

Load-bearing, not decorative. Each anchor has a holder in your line. When it lands in the script, mark it.

The One Question

"E pā ana ki a Rūaumoko — he aha te kōrero o tō tātou whānau? He aha te kōrero o tō tātou hapū? He aha te kōrero o Tūhoe? Ā, he aha tōku kōrero?"

Whānau first. Hapū second. Iwi third. You last. If they say something is not for film — listen. If they say it is yours — take it. If they say come back — go back.

A piece of obsidian on wet sand at dawn, the island beyond

The deep read

The whare reads every line as you lay it down — who is speaking, which anchors have been touched, which questions are alive on the page, how the reo runs chunk by chunk. Not advice. Sight.
Reo flow — chunk by chunk

Te Whakaahua — the Image

Layer two. The word made visible. These visions were carved for your story — the cast, the witnesses, the worlds. Tap any of them to hold it full-screen. Then pull your chunks into panels and sketch what the camera sees.
The storyboard.
Pull your chunks into panels. See your story for the first time.

The Voice Booth

Hear the rhythm. Read the chunk aloud. Karakia. Table-read yourself. Memos stay on this device.

The Rōpū Room

The rōpū feed lives in the online whare. Here — pin every word that comes back to you. Text, voice note, hui kōrero. Nothing gets lost.

The Hui Cell — live

One tap. Camera on. No app, no login, no Zoom. Peer-to-peer — the kōrero travels between your devices, never through a server. Video lives here in the online whare (kept out of the offline cell for weight).

Connect — room code (when the relay is live)

Connect — by hand (works right now, zero server)

Host taps 1 — make the call, sends the code below by text. Guest pastes it, taps 2 — answer, sends their code back. Host pastes it, taps 3 — connect. Three messages, then you are face to face.
not connected

Kōrero — live chat

Shared canvas

Draw — they see it as you draw. Story beats, blocking, whakapapa in the dirt.

Hui record

The Vault

Every keystroke is held here, on this device, as you type. Your whakapapa, your drafts, your voice — taonga. Never sold. Never taken. It moves only when you move it.

New kaupapa

A new idea mid-script? Start it. The whare holds as many as you carry.

The Kete — load your own corpus

A body of work — metaphors, whakataukī, kīwaha, atua kōrero, a tribal word-list — loads in here and lives on this device. Every entry then answers first in the word net, badged gold, with its source named. Paste JSONL (one entry per line) or a JSON array, or choose a file.
Shape per entry: {"reo":"…","meaning":"…","literal":"…","use":"…","source":"holder / book, date","tribe":"…","type":"whakataukī | metaphor | kīwaha | atua | kupu","near":["…"],"opposite":["…"],"atua":["…"]} — only reo and meaning are required.
kete empty — the seed lexicon still answers

The versions — nothing is ever lost

The whare seals a version as you work, and you can seal one any time. Change your mind about anything — walk back to any sealed moment, look at it, bring it back if it was truer. The current work is always sealed first, so even the walk-back can be walked back.
Made for you. Hold the centre. Follow the love.
THIS IS THE ONLINE WHARE · r2V · full ladder · all six layers
👁 Te Whatu · ⬇ offline cell ↗ · ahorangi.io ↗ — opens the whare entrance in a new tab; this file keeps running exactly as it is.
The shooting bible — everything isolated, everything connected back.
The engine reads your script and breaks it out the way the floor needs it: every scene, every location, every word each actor carries, the props and taonga in the action, and a storyboard draft — shot by shot. Tap anything and it takes you back to that exact line in the script. It re-reads live, so what you write is what the floor sees.

Scenes — shooting order

press “Read the script now”

Locations & sets

Cast — each actor's words, isolated

Props & taonga

Reo taonga are lifted automatically. Capitalised candidates are the engine's first guess — pin the true ones; pins are vaulted.

Storyboard — draft shots

Every action block becomes a draft shot, in script order. Tap a shot to see its lines in the script.
A pounamu koru pendant on dark volcanic stone — the spiral of the ladder

Te Kurawaka — the Ladder

Your magic story, six rooms deep. You began with the word under your control. Each room unfurls the moment your mahi calls for it — nothing before its time, nothing locked that you have earned. This is the map of where you stand.

Te Reo Oro — the Sound

Layer three. The world your story breathes in. Sit a bed of sound under the writing — the sea for the beach, the rain for the night walk, the fire for the memorial. No files, no network — the whare makes the weather itself. Your voice memos still live in the Voice booth.

The tone seats

432 Hz — the settling tone. 648 Hz — the lifting one. Seat one before a sprint; let it run under the karakia blister.
ground · the stone
lift · the manu

Te Ataata — the Moving Picture

Layer four. The self-tape room. Read the scene to camera — Agnes's pao, the karakia at the beach, the debate at the table. Takes stay in the vault on this device; nothing leaves. Tag each take to its chunk so the performance and the word stay woven.
Maungapōhatu in the mist — the mountain settlement, stillness and breath

Te Tinana — the Body

Layer five. The story lives in a body before it lives on a page. Four heats, thirteen seconds the round — the same timing as the karakia. Hā ki roto, pupuri, hā ki waho, whakatā.
ready when you are
0 rounds

The centre check

Feet on the floor. Weight even. Kss auē hī hā — then the four steps: Ground → Turn → Drop → Write. The blister and the flip still live in the Writer, where the mahi is.

Te Tākaro — the Play

Layer six. The story is strong enough to be played with now. Two games, both real mahi.

The Weave — reorder the worlds

Your structure is non-linear — the memorial is the hub, the worlds spring and return. Move the chunks. Feel the story change shape. Nothing applies until you say so.

Watch It Hold — the read-through

The whare reads your script back to you in the dark, at spoken pace. Watch it hold — or watch where it doesn't.
ready
Press play. The story reads itself aloud in your head — the pace of a voice, not a scroll.

Reo pairs —

The English stays exactly as you wrote it. Lay the reo line beside it — it prints beneath in the script, pounamu italic, for reading understanding on the day. The craft of the transcreation stays in human hands; the word net is one tab back if a word is needed.
tap a macron, it drops into the box you're in

Te Wetereo Ahorangi — ngā ture tekau

Locked in from the ahorangi Māori grammar book (Wetenga Reo: Grammar — copy to teachers). Immovable — with wiggle room in the choice of words, never in the structures. All ahorangi reo follows these, every single time.

Karakia Blister

No stopping. No backspace if you choose. Freeze? Write "I do not know where the plot has gone…" until you do.
15:00

The Flip

Tonguetwister

Blow out the sludge. Say it fast, strange, rhythmic — then write from there.

Centre Check