“We started as best friends… and ended as strangers.”
– Yours Truly
“We started as best friends… and ended as strangers.”
– Yours Truly
Stand up, Vanguard!
I decided that I will show you how the game is played so you will understand me when I begin narrating my experiences. So without further adieu, let us begin. (Ado or adieu? nigahiga said it was “adieu”…)
First off, following the guide book that is inclusive in the trial deck, we shall start with the kinds of cards and its important parts. There are three kinds of cards – the normal unit, trigger unit, and finally the G unit. Normal units have black margins at the bottom, trigger units have yellow, and G units have red. We’ll skip their info for now and move on to the basic parts of a card.
The number situated at the uppermost left is the “grade”. There are currently five grades, from 0 to 4. And now we shall return to the unfinished info about unit type. (Such McArthur xD) Most trigger units are grade 0, with the exception of starting vanguards, which are normal units. Grades 1, 2 and 3 are all normal units. Lastly, Most G units are grade 4 with the exception of three cards.
Let’s move on to the parts of a card.
As you can see here, there are seven main parts of a card. First is the grade, which we have discussed. Underneath the grade is the skill. There are four types of skills: Boost, Intercept, Twin Drive and Triple Drive. Grade 0 and 1 cards have Boost, where, as the name implies, they can boost, or ad their power to the unit in front of them. Grade 2 units have Intercept, in which they can intercept an incoming attack, thereby blocking it. Grade 3 units have Twin Drive, where instead of just one drive check, upon attacking with your vanguard, you can have two drive checks. We’ll talk about drive checks in a moment. And lastly, Triple Drive. Common sense – three drive checks.
Next is the Shield. Note: only Grade 0, 1 and 2 units have shields, along with some chosen Grade 4 units. Shields range from 5000 to 15000 depending on the unit. Grade 0s have 10000 shield, Grade 1s and 2s have 5000, and the special Grade 4s have 15000. Then we have ability. Most cards have abilities, while a few don’t have. This is the most tedious part to explain, so I’ll cover this soon. Up next is the name. I don’t need to explain this, right? Ah, but I have to. At times, abilities require special names in order to activate. For example… actually, forget it.
Power! This is the power of the card. (You don’t say.) Grade 0s have powers ranging from 3000 to 6000. Grade 1s usually have 4000 to 8000 power. Grade 2s are around 7000 to 11000, Grade 3s range from 9000 to 12000, and Grade 4s are the strongest, with the least being 13000 and the strongest being 15000. There is a 4000 Grade 4 unit, though. (haha)
Critical. This is the amount of damage you deal to an opponent if your attack hits the opponent’s vanguard. One critical equals one damage. However, there are abilities that can increase criticals, and once you have 6 damage, you lose. Oh, I forgot to explain damage. It’s measured by the cards you have in the damage zone.
And lastly, the clan and race. The clan is like the family of the card, and there are currently 26 legitimate clans in the game. (Yes, because there are a few clans that exist but are not playable.) As for the race, it’s like a sub-clan, but there are more varieties, like Human, Elf, Angel, the like.
Whoa… that took so much out of me. And we’re not even halfway done yet. I guess I’ll have to recommend that you watch the anime so it’ll be easier for you to understand. You can find it on Youtube, Cardfight!! Vanguard or Cardfight!! Vanguard G. There are currently 8 seasons, so good luck.
Anyway, it’s very late, and I still have to study for exams, so see you next time. This is the Generation Master. I end my turn.
Miss me? I’m sure you didn’t. Anyway, this will mark the beginning of my fourth quarter blog posts, and a whole new world that you have not seen before.
All around the world, there is a new trading card game that is rapidly replacing Yu-Gi-Oh. This game is called Cardfight Vanguard. It is a game that requires strategy, skill and luck in order to win. And before we delve deeper into the world of Vanguard, I’ll drop some basic information first.
Cardfight Vanguard is a TCG or Trading Card Game introduced by Bushiroad. Aside from Vanguard, there are also other games like Future Card Buddyfight and Luck & Logic. But of these three, Vanguard is the most widely known. It was released in 2011 and was followed by the anime series, which currently has 8 seasons.
I first encountered this game when I was in Grade 8. It was June 7, 2014. Me, along with Dominic and Mikel, went to KFC to hang out. While there, Barnett followed us and challenged Dominic to a cardfight. That was when I first saw it.
And there you have it. Cliffhanger? I’m sure not. Anyway, so you’ll know more about the game, my next post will be about the rules, if you don’t mind. I’ll also narrate my progress with the game, from my first battle against Mikel to my latest.
Well, that’s it for this day, I guess. See you next time, people. I end my turn.
A chilly evening, guys. I was bored of doing nothing and decided to write a blog post. Oh, and by the way, my section made it to the finals of the Carol Fest. Cheers, hurrah, yay and all that. I wasn’t that shocked to learn that we got in, since I already knew that from the start. I trust my section, after all.
Let’s steer away from singing and get to the real topic.
“I shall return.” If my memory serves me well, those words were uttered by General Douglas McArthur before leaving the Philippines during the Second World War. He promised the Filipinos that he will come back and liberate the archipelago from the grasp of Japanese troops. True to his word, he landed on Samar in 1944 and almost immediately began the reclamation of the country. And after almost a year or bitter fighting, the Philippines was completely liberated from hostile forces. The Unites States initiated the Manhattan Project to produce the very first atomic bomb which was dropped on the cities of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, effectively ending the Second World War.
Mmm, my history skills haven’t waned yet. But more importantly, I have made my point clear: General McArthur kept his promise and returned to the Philippines with a load of troops more than enough to oust the Japanese troops. And I believe it’s about time I kept my own promise to return.
I know, I know. “But you don’t make promises anymore, bleh bleh bleh.” Yes, I don’t make promises… anymore. So there was a time when I still promised stuff. That was during elementary, four years ago.
On graduation day, I made a promise to myself that I was going to visit my old friends in PNU. As the honorary and highly respected president of Grade 6 – Marangal(ugh, what a load of crap), I was expected by my former classmates to plan our reunion. And in order to do that, I need to talk to them.
Basically this whole post can be shortened into one sentence: I’m visiting PNU on their Christmas Party. I just, you know, expounded on the idea.
And… yeah, that’s about it.
This is your EnglishRazor, who shall return and stuff. Argh, you get the point!
“You have been slain.”
These phrases are usually associated with death in certain video games. When your character’s health drops to 0 HP or if your team takes too long to respond, you “die”. Then you’ll have to start over again or wait for several seconds before you respawn.
Now, if only the same could be applied to real life, then life would be so much easier. If there’s something you messed up with, you can easily start over again. Stuff like that.
But then again, that’s only wishful thinking. You can’t jump off a building and wake up in your bed as if nothing happened. You can’t start over if you did something regretful. Life doesn’t have a save state, load state. It has no return, back, retreat. This big, painful, annoying, challenging vestibule called Life only has one bloody gear: forward.
So if you die, game over. The end. Finish. Wasted. Slain. Whetever damn word you can associate with being gone forever. But at least in death… there is bliss. Nothingness. Emptiness. No pain, no suffering, no annoying 8th grade asking you for your debt, no teacher for you to hide from, no Mondays for you to wake up to, no bastard friend slapping you around like a rag doll, no bloody classmates to put up with, no goddamn requirements to make, no braces that prick your cheeks, no little sister bugging you while you eat dinner, no fed enemies dragging you down to Bronze V, no Mathematics to deal with, no practices to attend to, no damn people that spreads stuff about you, no parents to tell you what to do, no friends to criticize you and judge you, no rallies for you to get annoyed at, no relationships to think about, no students to laugh at you if your dress like Ash or run like a ninja, no nothing. Just… oblivion. Peace. An eternity of it.
So young, yet I’m already beyond fed up with life. I used to think that it takes a lot to make me give up. Well, either I was faking it, or life already threw a hell lot at me. Right now… there is literally nothing for me to hang on to. Everything that I cared for, hung on to just… slipped away. Disappeared. Crumbled to dust. The only thing that keeps me on my feet… actually, there’s nothing. I can just give up any time I want. No more regrets that might hold me back like last time.
Sure, people will grieve. They might cry. Croc tears, from a lot. Miss me, maybe a few months. A year if I’m lucky. People will be sad and stuff. They might remember their memories with me. They might say sorry to a coffin for stuff they did.
But after that… forgotten. A memory, carelessly tossed aside. You can always find a new best friend. There’s a lot of better men out there for you to love. You still have two more children. Zandr’s gonna become B7 just like that. There’s like, three hundred more students that will graduate. No sweat from losing a single, useless student. Then… boom.
“Joshua? Oh… he died a year ago. Anyway, remember that thing I told you…”
“Uh… Inopiquez? Ah, right. He used to be my classmate. Oh, speaking of classmates, isn’t this girl…”
I wonder how many other conversations like this will spawn if I pushed through with this.
And don’t get me started with that “people still love you, you still have a bright future, blah blah blah”. Bright future? Where? I don’t see it. And even if there was, so what? Will my death signal the end of human race? No, it’s just one less meteorologist in the world. And love? *scoffs* I can’t even put into words what I’m feeling right now, even with my expansive vocabulary. Rage? Frustration? Pain? Those are the closest I can describe them.
Here’s a parting message: if I do depart from this hellhole, do me a favor and don’t cry for me. I’m not someone worth crying to. You should have done that while I was still alive. And it’s already far too late. Your tears don’t have the breath of life.
This is your EnglishRazor, biding his time… or what’s left of it.
A not-so pleasant day, people. Lately, my days have become increasingly dull and… deathly. I wouldn’t know the reason behind this. All I know is that… it isn’t right.
There is poison coursing through my body. Not real poison, mind you. That would have killed me right away, though I wish that was the case here. Anyway, there is something in me that has gone terribly wrong and is taking over me. It’s like cancer cells taking over healthy cells, except that cancer cells can be destroyed. I don’t know about this poison inside me.
But ah… life goes on. Though if my life must go downhill, then it goes downhill. No sense in struggling if it will only prolong the inevitable.
Aight, enough of my ranting. This is your poisoned EnglishRazor, hoping for eternal peace.
Sweat dripping, arms heaving as he makes his way into the smaller unit. Around him, the objects he was used to seeing in the previous house was now stashed haphazardly, bags on top of bags on top of bags. His stunted eyesight was still unaided, his broken glasses lying somewhere upstairs, but he didn’t need spectacles to see the outline of the buildings.
It was arguably the most prosperous city in the entire metro, at least according to his parents. And there was also good reason to believe that. Across the wide expanse of cities, that one stretch of horizon was jam-packed with sky-high towers, each one owned by a wealthy businessman, or probably a foreign investor. He didn’t care much about economical stuff.
But that city also held something else… something dear to him. Suddenly, a flood of memories ambushed him, paralyzing him on the spot and drowning him with images and scenes from a recent past. With both mental hands, he waved the turbulence aside and focused on his work. They had barely three days left to move all their things. And he himself, curse him, wasn’t cooperating.
BR: You can’t blame me. Blame these stupid memories.
ER: Hmph. I told you to clear your mind off that place. But did you listen? Of course not! You’re the most stubborn person I have ever come across in my 16 years on this planet!
BR: Excuse me? We are the same person, nitwit. Stop insulting yourself. Maybe if you’d come and help me fight off this stupid maelstrom of emotions, maybe we’d get this job done at a much faster rate!
ER: Are you telling me that I’m useless?
BR: Well, aren’t you? You couldn’t even make yourself-
ER: Shut up! Shut up! I will not listen to your nonsense again!
BR: Tsk… stupid, annoying, worthless, good for nothing, useless, stubborn… love. Hah! As if love would take away your thirst and hunger.
ER: You say all that, but you immerse yourself in memories. What a hypocrite.
At that moment, he decided that that was enough argument for one day. He began to neatly arrange his things in his new closet, all the while trying to ignore a growing, chewing pain in his chest.
From the EnglishRazor to you, reader. Over and out.
Order from Chaos. Creation from destruction. Life from death.
But pain… breeds nothing but more pain. It gnaws through the threads of emotions pulled taut around the heart. It closes around my chest, with its iron fingers, and slowly crushes the poor little being that is me.
They call out to me, asking what is wrong. Are you okay? Do you have a problem? Oh, yes I do. And it’s impossible to escape. if you want to help, well… it’s far too late. My soul has fallen into disrepair, the pain and lies gnashing at it every second. At times, they let up on me, when I’m busy. But when I’m beside her, the monstrosity rears back and slashes across me with such force that it shatters my soul.
My body disconnects from my emotions. I become two separate beings – one that is fighting the relentless creature within me, and the other trying hard to veil the pain that is in me.
I cannot see the light anymore. This endless carnage has blinded me. And my last hope for resurrection has been extinguished, leaving behind the tattered remains of my final ray of light. My hope, ripped to shreds and discarded.
This is the ravaged EnglishRazor, leaving for hell.
Once again, it is night. The time I dread the most, for the most fearsome beast I have encountered will awaken again and threaten to consume me.
As my head rests on my pillow, I prepare my arsenal for battle. An armload of songs that will bring on the hurt. The beast lumbers closer. I must act fast. My fingers fly across the screen, selecting a new weapon for tonight’s battle. These… are the same songs that roused the beast from its sleep several hours ago. But to release it then in front of four people would be catastrophic, so using my powerful will, I reined in the beast.
But now, it will not rest. The earphones are plugged. The songs are playing. And I lie and wait as the beast turns. It is confused at the new weapon firing at it. But seconds later, the song makes its impact. I flinch, mimicking the beast’s moves. It strains against the pain and fights back, crushing my chest in a painful hug. But I do not waver. The beast is too strong… I unleash a new weapon – a memory. A new but lethal one that strikes deep into the beast. As it howls, a tear escapes from my eye.
The pain is unbearable, but I throw more memories – digging deep into the beast while the songs pummel it. And I can’t take the crushing pain anymore. I cry. A river of tears flow down the side of my face, like the waterfall of hurtful memories crashing down on the beast.
Finally, it calms down. The monster shrinks, and I pick it up. My raging emotions are now calm, quiet. I caress the thing, peacefully resting. My eyes fall on my phone and end the playlist. It will be a while before my self-torture will begin again.
This is the EnglishRazor, who has painfully endured another night of suffering.
18-year old Amadeus Chandler gingerly removed his cherished Yankees cap and settled it on his bed, opening the window curtains. For 18 months, he had been living in a decrepit dormitory in California. It was built on high ground, giving Amadeus a majestic view of the sparkling Pacific Ocean. He was obliged to stay in the western state for his thorough geological research on the San Andreas Fault. The work was difficult – setting up seismometers, taking readings every now and then, and gathering and analyzing the day-to-day data. Truth to be told, his heart really wasn’t in it.
The sunlight shone into his room, brightening the gloomy indoors. The morning rays lit up the picture of his family resting on the desk next to his bed. He moved over and picked up the photo gingerly. It was a shot of his family back at New York City. His grinning father was wearing a tuxedo with coattails, while his stern mother was wearing a glamorous red dress that went all the way down to the polished hardwood floor of the mansion. And there he was, little Amadeus, pointing his father’s baton at the cameraman as if it was a magician’s wand. Behind them, there rested the apple of his eye – the majestic grand piano that his father had bought years ago. The memory of the grand piano made his shoulders sag. It had been a year and a half since his fingers last danced on the ivory keys of the piano. Then a few hours alter, with his meager belongings packed in a traveling suitcase, he had left for California at his mother’s urging. Mercedita Chandler wanted her son to become a world-renowned geologist, much like her father.
The teenager wanted so bad to feel those smooth keys under his grasp again. His ears yearned for each of the lovely tunes yielded by the piano. His eyes wanted to rest on the shiny instrument and find that little scratch he made with the baton.
“I cannot go back… I cannot disappoint my mama.” Amadeus hung his head. But looking at the grand piano in the picture once again, he remembered an old memory that his father had told him.
“You are a musician. That is why I named you Amadeus, after the world’s greatest composer. Our family had always been musicians. Never forget, my son. Follow your heart. Seek what will make you happy, not what will make others happy.” Beethoven had pushed his favorite Yankees cap into little Amadeus’ hands and left for Europe. Later that day, Beethoven Chandler’s plane crashed into the Atlantic Ocean.
Amadeus picked up the Yankees cap. He decided that he wanted to enjoy his life, not being a slave to his mother’s wishes. He called his roommates camping at San Andreas Fault to tell them that he was going to leave for New York. He was going to return to his old friend and resume his true nature. After all, he is Amadeus Chandler.