Modern Day Filipino Deities

new sengen fic is up lol more gen being a sad boy and senku being awkward because that’s my entire shit. don’t worry it has a good ending:)

Tarot Gen Cards - A conspiracy theory and Hcs

Well, I was re-re-re-reading some chapters of manga (I can't help it, sorry) and I'd noticed one thing about Gen' cards.

But first, when and who made one of the most powerful trick of this cute mentalist?

Let's start straight (or not, in this case?).

↘️⬇️↙️

In chapter 70, paper (and the possibility to make sheets to draw and write on them) is acquired by the Science team. So I don't think Gen' cards already existed before this chapter because they made by paper with a touch of plastic (I supposed because the paper it was more easy to draw something on but only paper isn't enough).

In chapter 82, Gen remembered Senkuu' words about the entertainment (so like his own magic show) and how they will come back. I wanted to include it because from chapters 70-81, Senkuu and all of them in general had zero (0) chills to make something of frivolous like cards. So when Gen' cards could be made? Maybe after this chapter?

In chapter 84, finally we could see one of the cards: the Joker + Gen explained one of his psychological tricks.

Had you noticed? The Joker had a sort of title.

Uncertainty Principle.

It wasn't a psychological or magical concept but a scientific one. The Uncertainty Principle was also known as Heisenberg's uncertainty principle. Google-chan was trying to explain to me what it was but it wasn't important for this post, so let's forget about what it was but not that it was a scientific concept.

Also the double faced joker here had the same scar of Gen.

Cute.

🌻

In chapter 88, we could more of his cards. On the cards were written Tarot Gen Card (and they hadn't the pattern motive that they had in few chapters before).

At first I thought that there was something strange but Wikipedia-chan explained that even cards like these that Gen used could be called like this. For Tarot Cards I did mean another type...

Btw, in this chapter we also saw another card. 3 of hearts that had a title as well.

Theory of Evolution.

This one is an another scientific concept like that for the joker's card. It's a reference to theory of evolution made by Charles Darwin, of course.

So here we go with my theories:

1) Gen made these cards by himself

I mean, he needed them and finally he had all materials to use. Tarot Gen Cards are useful for good (little show that he could make as it was shown in a small photo in this panel from chapter 99)

or "evil" magic tricks (when it was to make his and Senkuu's interests went well). This could be valid because on cards there was Gen's name (normally on something made by Senkuu there was always his name).

2) Gen asked to Senkuu to make these cards

Gen was very lazy. He needed cards and he asked them to Senkuu for the same reasons that I'd said above. Also Senkuu maybe could draw (we didn't know nothing about Gen's other skills) or they asked to the little child from the Village to draw a few illustrations on cards lol

3) Senkuu made them for Gen as a gift (after all, Gen has made for him the telescope)

Yes, same reasons above but there was more. Senkuu didn't express his feelings and he preferred to do something concrete for who he loved and cared about. So he made cards with Gen's name but call them with scientific concepts also to teached them to Gen.

The scene that I've pictured in my mind is like this:

"A mentalist like you have to have cards with him... So here we go. Use them for Science Kingdom's Sake."

"Have you given to me a present, Senkuu-chan~? For what? I'm not complaining."

"It's not a present, it's for your mentalist job. Use them for tricking who wants to trick us."

"Wait... Why has every card a different scientific principle on it?"

"Because you can study them now."

"Have I to study here too? Tewwible!"

And I've done, let me know what do you think, if you mind or if you want me to focus on something else about SenGen or Dr. Stone story 🃏

I don't know if you can answer this one, but basically, I know what needs to happen in my story and I know where it's going but it's like I can't get it there or don't have the ideas to get it there, if that makes sense? For example, I'm writing a short story and for this particular scene, these two characters need going to kiss to get the story going, but the dialogue and scene feels so flat or it's like I have no ideas to get from point A to point B.

Trouble Getting from Point A to Point B

You may think you know what needs to happen in your story, and you may think you know where your story is going, but knowing random things that have to happen and a general ending aren't usually enough to make a story unfold. For some writers it is, but not for most of us.

There are some key things a story needs in order for you to fill in those moments...

1) Motivation and Goal - every story is about someone who wants something trying to get that thing, so the first thing you need to figure out about your story is what your character wants, why they want it, and the steps they need to take in order to get it.

2) Internal Conflict - Your character's history, experiences, and current situation all play a role in who they and what they need. What does your character want to change about themselves or their situation?

3) Antagonistic Force - When you're trying to reach a goal, there's almost always an antagonistic force creating obstacles you must overcome. If you're training to run a marathon, those obstacles are probably created by the limitations based on your current level of fitness. If you're trying to survive a gladiator-style fight, the antagonistic force is whoever/whatever put you in that situation and on a smaller scale, whoever/whatever you need to fight to survive.

4) Stakes - Stakes are the things that matter most to your character. These are the reasons your character is motivated in the first place, the reason they want to pursue their goal. Stakes are the best thing that could happen if your character succeeds, and the worst thing that could happen if they fail. What's the worst that can happen?

Sometimes, when you're trying to reach a goal, the stakes are raised. This could be a natural raising of the stakes, like a smoldering volcano showing sudden signs that it's about to blow and threaten the character's family in the village below. It could be an intentional raising of the stakes, like the villain kidnapping your character's significant other, forcing your character choose between slaying the villain's dragon that's terrorizing the village, or saving their loved one.

Your character's goal tells us where the story is going. Your character's motivation tells us why the character wants to get there. Their internal conflict tells us why they want what they want, and why they do the things they do. The antagonistic force tells us who or what they're up against and what obstacles they'll have to overcome on their way to reaching their goal. Stakes tell us how things can get increasingly worse/increasingly more tense.

When you know all of these things about your story, you start to understand the individual things that need to happen, like the moment when your character finds out their loved one was kidnapped, or the moment when the smoldering volcano starts to rumble. When you know the individual things that have to happen, you can build scenes around them. When you know what your characters want, why they want it, what internal conflict drives their choices, and what's standing in their way, you understand what your characters would need to talk about in each scene.

Have a look at the following posts for more help:

Guide: How to Turn Ideas into a Story Guide: Filling in the Story Between Known Events Guide: How to Outline a Plot Basic Story Structure How to Move a Story Forward

Good luck with your story! ♥

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For historical fic writers

This chair is called a GALLINERA

It was a furniture often seen on the porch, gate, or balconaje of the rich. Farmers and servants sit on this chair to wait for the their Masters when they're giving payments for using the farmland. The payments are usually chickens. The space with the sliding door underneath is where they keep the chickens. The chair is made from heavy wood and is adorned in inticate design. It is a status symbol, and the prettier your Gallinera is, the richer and kinder you are (Imagine buying expensive chair for the peasants).

Ideas to use the Gallinera:

1. Rich neigbors with rivalry - compete by beautifying the Gallinera.

2. A Señorito who said he's living on his own - lives under the Gallinera instead and he's never found out.

3. A Señorita lying down under the Gallinera to practice being dead inside a casket.

4. Poetic cinema - showing the status of the family by the cobwebs accumulating around the Gallinera.

A lovely silver mounted Kris of the Maguindanao, Philippines, ca. 18th-19th century, housed at the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

Different Ways of Walking

hello, hello! good morning, i woke up early today... for reasons i'm not to crazy about. but i decided to do a post, for ya'll.

let me say a quick thank you before i proceed with today's post. i have 200 followers! in case some of you didn't see my post about me mentioning it. it's not a lot but, as i've said before i didn't think anyone would follow at all because this account was mostly for me.

but thank you to everyone who follows, reblog and likes my posts! it means a lot :)

now, without further ado!

walk: move on one's feet. We walked to town.

limp: walk unevenly because one leg is hurt. That man is hurt, he's limping.

hobble: walk with difficulty. The old man hobbled along the street with the aid of his stick.

stagger: walk unsteadily as if about to fall. He was so drunk that he staggered all the way home.

stumble: stagger. She stumbled upstairs and into bed.

lurch: stagger. The drunken man was lurching along the street.

tiptoe: walk on the tips of one's toes. She tiptoed to the bed so as not to wake the baby.

stroll: walk for pleasure. They strolled around the park.

amble: walk at a slow, leisurely pace. They ambled along for miles.

saunter: stroll. They sauntered around the park.

wander: move without a fixed purpose or destination. They enjoy wandering through the countryside.

roam: wander. They roamed through the streets for hours.

ramble: walk for pleasure with no particular destination. He likes rambling around in the country.

mooch: wander, walk slowly without any purpose. John mooched about the shops.

meander: walk in a slow, relaxed way instead of taking the most direct way possible. (Rivers also meander). As I was sitting in the park, I watched as couples seemed to meander around happily.

stride: walk with long steps. She strode across the fields.

strut: walk in a proud way, with the chest out and trying to look important. He strutted past us, ignoring our greeting.

swagger: walk proudly, strut. After winning the first prize, the player swaggered about proudly.

stalk: walk in a proud or angry way, with long steps. The teacher turned and stalked out of the classroom.

sashay: walk in a confident way, moving the body from side to side, especially so that people look at you. The models sashayed down the aisle showing their clothes.

trudge: walk slowly and with effort because one is tired. We were very tired after trudging through the deep snow for two hours.

shuffle: walk very slowly and noisily, without lifting one's feet off the ground. His legs were aching so much that he shuffled to bed.

stump: walk heavily and stiffly. They stumped up the hill.

plod: walk with heavy steps or with difficulty. Labourers plodded home through the muddy fields.

pace: walk with regular steps. He paced up and down the platform, waiting for the train.

march: walk with regular steps of equal length. Demonstrators marched through the streets of the city.

parade: walk or march together to celebrate or protest. Demonstrators paraded through the streets of the city.

crawl: move slowly with the body close to the ground or on hands and knees. A baby crawls before he can walk.

toddle: walk with short unsteady steps. Her two-year-old son toddled into the room.

edge: move gradually with small movements. Paul decided to edge away from the crowd.

creep: move slowly and quietly with the body close to the ground. The cat crept silently towards the bird.

sneak: go quietly and secretly in order to avoid being seen or heard. The boy sneaked in without paying.

pad: walk softly and quietly. The child padded barefoot down the stairs.

prowl: walk slowly and quietly because you are involved in a criminal activity or because you are looking for something. Street gangs usually prowl this alley.

slide: move smoothly over a surface. I was sliding on the ice.

slip: slide accidentally. She slipped on the ice and broke her leg.

dash: move quickly and suddenly, rush. I must dash or I'll miss the train.

dart: move quickly and suddenly in the specified direction. She darted away when I came in.

scamper: run quickly and playfully. The children were scampering up the steps.

sprint: run very quickly for a short distance. The kids sprinted down the stairs.

jog: run slowly and steadily, as a way of exercising. She goes jogging everyday.

trip over: catch one's foot on something and stumble or fall. He tripped over the step and fell.

scuttle: move quickly with short steps, because you are afraid or do not want to be noticed. The mouse scuttled off when we entered the room.

scurry: move quickly with short steps, because you are in a hurry. He was late so he had to scurry off to work.

skip: move forward with quick steps and jumps. The child skipped with joy towards his father.

lope: run with long steps. The man loped off after the ball.

lollop: run with long awkward steps. The dog came lolloping down the path.

tear: run or move quickly in a dangerous or careless way. When the storm started, they tore back into the house.

rush: hurry, move quickly because you need to get somewhere soon. She was late so she decided to rush off down the hall.

hop: move by jumping on one foot. The man hopped down the road after hurting his foot.

trip: walk with short quick steps, usually as young girls do. The little girl tripped happily up the road.

lunge: make a sudden movement towards somebody or something. The boxer lunged forward and grabbed his opponent by the arm.

scramble: climb up or down, or over something quickly and with difficulty. They had to scramble up to the top of the hill to see the view.

hike: take a long walk in the mountains or countryside, as an adventure. The group hiked up to the top of the hill.

trek: hike; make a long, difficult journey on foot. For ten days she trekked across the mountains of China.

paddle (UK), wade (US): walk for pleasure without shoes or socks in water that is not very deep. The children were paddling in the lake.

waddle: walk with short steps, moving the body from one side to another, used especially to talk about birds or people with fat bodies. The fat man waddled off to the restaurant for lunch.

prance: walk with high steps or large movements, in a confident way. She pranced around her room, pretending to be an actress.

frogmarch: force somebody to walk by holding his arms tightly by his side, usually because of bad behaviour. The prefect frogmarched the boy to the detention room.

there you have it folks! hope everyone has a wonderful day! and if there is one i didn't list feel free to add it when you reblog it!

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San Lang, your… are your ashes properly hidden away? / A long time ago. / Are you sure it’s properly hidden? That place is secure enough? It won’t be found? / To me, it’s the safest place in the world. / You’re absolutely sure? / If its hiding place is destroyed, then there’s no need for me to exist either. Of course I’m sure.

“To Love an Aswang”

The bells were ringing too the day I met her. The first time I met her, it was a cloudy day and I had just come from mass, passing by some carts that sold food outside the old church. She was sitting behind the cart that sold fried potatoes on a skewer, and she eyed each person that passed by with interest, her silky voice calling out, “Ale, ale, bili kayo oh.” I stopped in front of her cart and bought two of the food she was selling. While we waited for the potatoes to fry, I casually made small talk with her.

“Ate, do you always sell here?” I asked.

She smile a tiny smile before answering, “Not always. Every other day and only before the sun goes down. At night, I head home.”

“Do you live near here?”

“Yes, I do.”

Once the potatoes were done, she put them in a brown paper bag and I gave her twenty pesos. Before I went on my way, I ventured on another question, not thinking much of it as I asked it. “Do you do this for a living or is this just a side job?”

She answered, “It’s more of a side job. After all, I have other means of getting my food. This just covers some of my other expenses.”

I gave a non-committal answer and proceeded to walk away when she said it.

“I’m an aswang.”

I didn’t think much of it, and I just thought it was the silly rambling of a creative woman with a quirky sense of humour.

I had started going to church in the mornings before I work at the nearest bank, and just as she said, the woman was there every other day, but never outside the church at night once I began my walk home after a long day at work. Every time I saw her, I bought some of her potatoes and talked with her, slowly beginning an odd friendship.

We chatted about anything and everything, except for each other’s personal lives. I regaled her with tales of my co-workers, occasionally complaining about them on a particularly harrowing day, and I shared with her my musings about life in general. She never asks about church, and I don’t say anything about it either. On the other hand, she tells me of silly adventures she has while selling the potatoes and of customers that particularly caught her eye. She once told me about this pregnant lady who reeked of perfume, that it hurt her nose and probably did the opposite of beckoning others to her. She told the story with a laugh, saying that perfume was meant to enhance and not to soak. We talked about anything and everything, Anna and I.

She said it again one day. “You know, I’m an aswang.”

I laughed at that and said, “Sure. You’re an aswang and you fly around at night looking for babies to devour.” I kept laughing.

She answered quite seriously, “Exactly.”

That was when I felt an odd chill run down my spine. I tried to cover up the following awkward silence with a cough and a shaky question. “If you really are one, why would you tell me?”

She shrugged at that and said, “You deserve to know, You’re not like other humans. Here you go.” She then handed me my usual brown bag of fried potatoes and I hesitantly began my walk to work, all the while turning over in my head what she said.

The next time I saw her, we spent a good deal of time discussing about trivial things, as if the past conversation never happened. It felt normal. Just two friends chatting about anything and everything. But then I worked up the courage to bring it up. “So you really are an aswang?”

I told myself I didn’t believe her, that I was just playing along to hear more of what she has to say. She was eccentric, that’s for sure.

“Mhm,” she chirped, turning over the skewers to let the other side of the potatoes fry. “I do eat babies, but only the unborn ones. I don’t like them outside their mother’s bellies. Too big to eat and less tasty. Not to mention that it makes more of a mess than when they’re inside waiting to be sucked out.”

I shuddered at her nonchalance and the graphic details of her supposed eating habits. “So you’re evil then?”

She gave an irritated click of her tongue at that. “Evil, you say? What exactly is evil? I am an aswang and you are a human. We are different. So I eat unborn babies. Is that evil? You eat unborn duck embryo, is that evil? It simply is the way it is. I may not know much but even I know about the food chain.”

“But you take the babies from their mothers. Who could do such a thing?”

She smiled meanly at that. “Careful, my dear. You’re about to venture into a question I don’t think you’re prepared to hear the answer to.”

I stopped at that, and for a few moments the only sounds were the chattering of other people outside the church and the sizzling of the frying oil. “I guess you’re right,” I said.

“But tell me,” I continued, “do you hate humans?”

She gave another annoyed grunt, rolling her eyes at the same time. “Hating humans would imply I have any sort of feeling toward them. Humans to me are nothing but a source of my food and my income.” She nodded toward a couple who stopped by in front of the cart next to me to buy Anna’s goods. They left, and Anna continued, “It’s like if I asked you, do you hate ducks because you eat balut? I have a certain apathy toward humanity, if that’s what you mean.”

Her answers were as eccentric as she was; as absurd as the notion that she was an aswang as she said. Still, I let the concept settle into my mind, no matter how uneasy it made me. “Well, what about me?”

“What about you?” she asked.

I didn’t know what came over me, but as I looked into Anna’s eyes, I felt a sort of calm and peace, even though she kept claiming she was this dangerous powerful creature that I didn’t believe in. I asked her quietly, “Do you feel nothing toward me?”

That’s when she stopped turning over the potato skewers to really look at me. Her eyes shone under the shade of the umbrella on her cart, and her shoulders sagged in a strange resignation before answering, “I guess not. You are my friend, after all.”

Friend. Her answer surprised me very much. Did this woman, who claimed she was an aswang, really consider me as a friend? A human and an aswang as friends was almost as laughable as me believing in the idea itself. But still, something in me was touched. If this beautiful woman was really an aswang, a more powerful creature than me, her choosing to befriend me was a feat in itself that touched me in no other way that my normal friendships did. I remembered all the conversations we’ve ever had here, about anything and everything, about life and its adventures… She made me rethink everything I knew before. Before I met her.

“You still don’t believe me, do you?” she asked once again.

I gave a shuddering breath, placing a hand on her cart to steady myself. “If I do believe you, that creatures like aswang exist and you are one of them, how can we be friends, Anna?”

“Is being an aswang really that bad?” Anna answered quietly. She resumed cooking her potatoes and serving one or two customers that stopped by.

“I am terrified, Anna. Frankly, I am. You eat unborn babies. You are a creature of the night.”

She did not like what I said. She stood up abruptly, her arms falling to her sides in annoyance. “This again? You have nothing to fear from me! Humanity is a much more terrifying evil than I can ever be! I’m still me, dear. Why would being an aswang change that?”

We didn’t say anything for a while. She scared me that day. I looked at the old looming church while feeling her glare. Her glare held no malice, only annoyance and a flash of pain. Still, she scared me.

“What if I had a baby and you ate it before it even got to live outside the womb? What then, Anna? I don’t think I’d ever be able to bear that. If you were really an aswang, why would you befriend me? Why?”

She sat back down, her beautiful face scrunched up in…pain? She wiped her tears, and she said quietly, “Do you really think I would do that to you? To you? You are different from all other humans. You are different from me, and yet…I have grown to love you despite our short time. I have grown to love you. Tell me, am I really as terrible as you think I am? Am I evil for being different than you?”

“Anna,” I said. “How can you love me? How can I love you?”

She didn’t answer. She never did. I left to go to work, and when I was on my way home that day with the moon already peeking out in the sky, she was gone. She never appeared again. Some days, when I pass by where her cart used to be and hear the ringing of the bells, I remember her silky voice and all the stories we used to tell each other. I would think of our last conversation and ask myself, “What is love? And what is evil?”

I still don’t have an answer.

Why is this so disconcerting....give me back ugly dokja im begging you