AllCripps & Ink
Andrew Cripps is a writer, poet, climber, activist, and hip-hop artist from Bristol, UK.
With an affection for chaos, a wide knowledge of music, a sharp pen game, and a true love for nature, he’s building his legacy in words. Adventure and misadventure rule his life; writing completes it.
Introductions…
Welcome, welcome, welcome.
Step right up.
This blog would be the freakshow of the circus… if the Internet was a circus and I was John Merrick.
With that said, I hope to make you laugh, cringe, cuss, question everything, and maybe even go a bit creatively crazy.
I’ll be getting personal, sharing poetry, fiction writing, as well as many true stories, articles, and accounts of the weird and wonderful.
So I hope you come for the quirky and stay for the causes.
Much love, dear readers. Enjoy the ramblings of a humble madman.
My Latest Posts
- A Storm of Dreams
At dawn I lace my hopes with trembling hands,
The sky is bruised, a growl can be heard.
Yet still I step where shifting water stands,
To court the pulse of uncharted words.
The wind may howl its warnings in my ear,
The clouds may swear the road will end in rain,
But joy is born the moment I draw near
Not in the crown, but in the climb and strain.
So let the thunder drum its fierce applause,
Dance between the lightning and the fear;
For life is brief, and this is all it was:
To taste the walk, not rush the end, while we are here. - Indie Game Review | Back to the Dawn
A world-weary, jaded narrator starts to speak; his voice sounds as silky as a smoker and whisky drinker:
“Corruption, betrayal, a prison break. Life as a journalist has never been easy…”
Right away, I thought I was sold on Back to the Dawn — and it was interesting, but my ADHD mind did find some issues.
The 2025 prison sim from Spiral Up Games shows that big things come in small packages. Built with 8-bit, sprite-like graphics and with plenty to do, the game boasts so many variations of play. Multiple ways of solving the protagonist’s situation and somehow finding a way to free yourself from unfair incarceration, and stop a tricky fiend from their devious plans.
Although the applaudable amount of things available to you is also its main flaw — at least for a first playthrough. It almost has too many things to do, making it hard to choose. And there’s very little hand-holding in terms of how to solve the game. Okay, you have missions, but the ways to accomplish these are not always clear, and you end up squandering well-needed time testing things by trial and error, which may even cause you to fail the game.
Yep, fail. Another feature I’m not a huge fan of is being on the clock. Twenty-one in-game days to win… it certainly puts the pressure on, especially if you’re a completionist like me.
I get it, though — replayability.
There are some absolutely hilarious descriptions of characters and settings throughout. If you care for world creation and backstories, Back to the Dawn hits the nail on the head with a carpenter’s precision.
It also has actual prison lingo, a sim structure that’s truthful enough to remain fun, and cult, culture, and film references — which were a nice touch. Rudolf the Reindeer as an inmate — brilliant. Where’s Santa now? And is there even still a body?
Imagine a noir crime thriller where the criminals are animals. There are beef brawls, love stories, and cunning heists. There’s treachery, gambling, booze, smokes, and plenty of money to make — and even more things to spend it on. Crafting, charisma, crookery, and collecting debts. It has it all and more, as the main campaign dances along in the arms of so many side missions, tasks, gang missions, and other narratives that push this modern-retro wonder along.
Back to the Dawn is a breath of fresh air after being kept in solitary for 72 hours. It shows that game designers after my own heart are out there plugging away at pure gold. Even if it took a damned ice age to load even the menu, let alone changing locations. (Hey Spiral Up, work on that! If not anything else — it’s only a 3GB game.)
The music may have been repetitive, and that kind of ambience I could imagine being the soundtrack to some kind of ambient psychosis, but I just about kept my head and enjoyed the journey.
I’ll give Back to the Dawn a 7.1 / 10.
The intricacies of the game can become a little tedious, and unless you don’t mind playing a couple of run-throughs before completing it, you may want to accept the help of Google and the Back to the Dawn Fandom. Without it, you’ll wonder WTF an item does, how it impacts the game, how to complete certain actions, and which people to interact with to gain benefits (and the list of confusion can go on). It’s a bit of a free-for-all, mad scramble, and bumbling mess, but fun at the same time.
I look forward to future games from the writers, designers, and devs of Back to the Dawn. Great work… just. - I Love This Crazy Life I’ve Been Gifted | Poem of the Week
Life is so complex and confusing…. I love it.
Time folds into itself like origami made of the deepest memories.
A clock bleeds honey, sticky with forgotten promises.
Shadows argue over which colours deserve the light.
Life is so complicated and dangerous… I love it.
I wear my thoughts like mismatched and damaged shoes on a rainy street,
And in the madness, the universe hums a lullaby just for me.
Even the stars give me a wink, as though they know my dreams.
Life is so chaotic and creative… I truly love it.
- Omega Facility (Alpha, Omega & the Infinite) | Flash Fiction
Story Two ‘Omega Facility: Terminal Fear’ from ‘Omega’ has touched down.
Presented as a series of terminal logs and personal journal entries from researcher Eli Hartly, documenting his arrival at the Omega Facility and mission to the nearby planet’s surface.
Strange things soon begin. An extraterrestrial entity lurks. Madness spreads among the team. Something is very wrong — and no one can be certain who will make it out alive.
Designed to highlight narrative design for videogames, using in-world materials such as facility terminals, personal logs, and field journals (Routine, Starfield, Alien, The Outer Worlds, and other narrative-driven sci-fi titles).
If you’ve taken the time to read this, know I appreciate you.
#GameWriting #NarrativeDesign #Worldbuilding #IndieWriter #GameDev
- No More Mr Nice Guy | Short Story
(A short, amusing horror short about how the nicest creature on planet Earth lost his shit.)
No More Mr Nice GuyCapybara is a legend; everyone knows him to be a real, authentic dude. He’s friends with the local birds of the grove behind his home, who often come and squawk at him, delivering the morning news. The turtles of the lake think of him as a confidante and sit with him often; the monkeys love him dearly and even prune his fur. Even cats and dogs and crocodiles wouldn’t think of him as food. He’s a real one.
One day, Capybara was walking in the long grass — a casual strut for fun. He observed the bugs going about their tiny lives and traded a few blinks with a rabbit before heading for town.
He stayed on the outskirts, as he always did, smelling the coal fire and whatever was being cooked at the spit. For an hour, Capybara sat and listened to children play, the swash of the stream, and the clack of a hammer in the distance. He didn’t even dislike the humans, although… no, best not to dig up bad thoughts. They’re best in the dirt.
A smile was on his face as the sun delivered its warming rays. A mound of warm dirt propped him up and allowed him to lounge, belly up, for a while.
After some time of doing his favorite thing — nothing — he almost fell into a doze.That’s when a shot went off.
Another bang from nearby made him shudder. He knew the sound; he’d always known he didn’t like it. Another shot — and he watched a bird fall. Two more bangs, two more birds. Animals all around were running, flying, leaping into the waters of the lake and swimming away.
Capybara wasn’t aggressive; he was a friend to all. But when those shots went off, his blood began to boil.
Capybara’s mind blurred; those birds weren’t strangers. He had spent many hours sitting among those trees. The migrating birds were always so beautiful, and the locals always kind.
Those humans — the ones that carried the banging sticks, he thought — they were the most dangerous beasts about. He feared them and their banging sticks… usually.That day, a strange feeling wormed its way through Capybara, twisting and turning. His fur felt like hot coals around him. His eyes fixed on the two men with the banging sticks.
A shudder ran through him — as though an earthquake were rising from his claws, which dug into the ground as though trying to root themselves.
In a flash of brown, he raced through the tall grasses. He wanted to roar, but his body only remembered silence. He was closing in. The fury in him was rampaging; his mind shaded with something destructive, something carnivorous. The feeling deep within him channelled the energy of a jaguar, the ancient wisdom of the caiman, and the stealth of the snake. He had become something else.He’d nearly emerged from the grasses.
The first thing the humans knew was that one of them fell — a fractured leg from the impact with Capybara, skull clutched in his hands. The man’s banging stick fell and went off; the shot punctured the other man’s shoe. He fell too. Red spattered the rock behind.
What would the jaguar do?
Capybara slashed at the man closest. He screamed only briefly. The man’s guts spilled out onto the dirt like a melon dropped by a drunk tourist.
The other man reached for his banging stick.Capybara launched himself from the head of the gargling man whose insides were on the outside — the snap meant he’d been put out of his misery. For three seconds, Capybara was airborne, claws outstretched. He’d found his roar. It was more of a growl, one that many would have swooned or oooo’d at, but as Capybara came down, fear struck the man, fumbling to load his weapon.
The neck — that’s what a jaguar would go for.
He slashed with his left, then his right. He clamped down on the weeping neck skin and tugged, his head jerking this way and that.
The life drained from the man quicker than his blood.Capybara stepped back, the daze partially lifted. He ambled slowly toward the shore of the lake. Rabbits stared at him, quivering from within the grasses; birds watched from high; even the crocodile gazed at him with wide eyes, a glint of admiration in the dark emerald globes.
He looked into the water; his face was painted red. He sat there until the mask he wore began to dry, heaving his breath around his body.
It was time to go to the grove and deliver the news. They probably knew their kin were downed already. Some police might come to know those responsible were gone.Capybara would never be the same. He stayed true to the ones who’d always known him — but something dark knew him now, too. He had made an enemy that day. He had tasted hate. He had tasted blood. He blamed those banging guns and the humans that held them; they took him to a place he could never have known existed, not even in a nightmare. Within him, something remained — the memory, the feeling. Within him, it remained quiet, but never gone.
“Good day, Capybara,” said a shrew.
“Good day,” he replied, staring at the wind running through his fringe.
- A Moment of Chivalry in a Rainy World
A moment I HAD to write about. 🙏
Stock Photo (Not a Photo of the Couple) A Moment of Chivalry in a Rainy World
I’m out walking, heading to the shops when I see a young couple walking down the road… I was so impressed. The pair looked to be in the mid teens (no more than 16). The young chap was holding an umbrella for his girlfriend while holding her hand. Then, seeing a big puddle in the road to thier side and a car flying down the road, he gently pulled her out of the way to avoid her getting soaked putting himself on the outside (well played, sir, well played).
They were talking softly, laughing, big smiles on their faces, and you could tell he was actually listening when she spoke.
This is what I love to see — little humans: young, chivalrous lads and kind fellas. These are not just boys; these are young men. The lad I’ve talked about is likely to grow into a good man. I could see it in the way he moves, in the gentleness of his attention and his actions. Sure, some people perform acts of courtesy with less-than-pure intentions, but he seemed genuinely kind, and that is rare enough to notice.
His parents clearly brought him up right — with love, with some kind of honour… with the lesson to respect women.It’s a relief to see in a world where genders are too often pitted against each other, where blame and cynicism overshadow simple decency. People shouting “all men are…” or “all women are…”—it’s exhausting, it’s corrosive, it misses the point.
The point really is this: we could just be good, kind, caring, loving human beings. None of us are perfect, but if we hold true to these old values—thoughtfulness, attention, respect—we make the world a little better.
As Marcus Aurelius said, “Waste no more time arguing about what a good man should be. Be one.”
Teach your boys—and your girls—to be attentive, kind, and respectful. Small acts of care ripple far, and sometimes, a single umbrella in the rain can remind us of what humanity still has to offer.
- Omega Sect (Alpha, Omega & the Infinite) | Flash Fiction
Story One from Chapter Two has been declassified.
Omega Sect
Presented as a series of transmissions exchanged between two ranking officers in the moments leading up to a special military operation.
The communications relay actionable intelligence, shifting objectives, and mounting concerns surrounding the Omega Sect and its elusive leader — a high-value target linked to an extremely dangerous faction.
Designed to showcase narrative design writing for videogames, inspired by found materials such as terminals, intercepted messages, and in-field comms (Far Cry, Metal Gear Solid, and similar narrative-driven games).
If you’ve taken the time to read this, your attention is genuinely appreciated.
#GameWriting #NarrativeDesign #Worldbuilding #IndieWriter #GameDev
- The Man and His Sneeze
A poem about the utter torture of losing a sneeze, and the unimaginable joy of finding it again. Based on many true stories.
…
The Man and His Sneeze
A red-nosed man sat on his step,
squinting into the sky.
The red-nosed man cursed his nose,
wishing that it would die.
It’d let him down, it withheld a huff.
He stayed puffing on his step.
A tickle close to torturous
inside was all that’s left.
The red-nosed man had lost his sneeze;
he felt it to his knees.
The red-nosed man kicked a rock,
then let out a longing wheeze.
A step or two, a grumble more,
his annoyance nearly roared.
Back inside, to maybe cry,
he slammed his thick front door.
A spider held on tight to webs
as dust fell to his head.
A gentle rain of fine-tuned dirt
floated on a breath.
“Careful, dear,” said his wife,
filling a golden pot.
“You’ll break your toe, then all is woe —
not just because of snot.”
The air was thick with particles,
a dappled light beam clear.
A layer of the mucky air
was settling on his beard.
The red-nosed man paused in step,
a building breath in him.
He dared not move or turn or speak,
although he allowed a grin.
The red-nosed man would be at peace —
soon, he was sure of it.
A huff, a chuff, an explosive puff —
a chain reaction within.
“Bless you, bless you, bless you, sir,”
said the woman with her tea.
A red-nosed man may have lost his sneeze,
but found it again in threes.
- Indie Game Review | Dead Static Drive
Developer: Reuban Games
Release Date: Nov 5, 2025
Lonesome roads, creatures of the dark, deadly encounters… a blasted bug that ended the ride.
It’s like carpooling through hell.
The quick, quirky description of this game — “Grand Theft Cthulhu” — drew me in; the eerie background and driving dynamics kept me. I kinda enjoyed it while it lasted.
Character creation was basic but welcomed nonetheless. The edgy, faceless graphics seemed a tad lazy, though. And the fact it was just pop-up speech nearly had me bail before I’d gotten playing.
(If you’ve read any of my other reviews, you’ll know my opinion on not having voice actors, even on a basic level; granted, point and click games often get a pass and indie companies don’t always have the budget. But still, just get your staff to throw something in.)
Okay, that rant is over.
Maybe basic graphics, but those driving physics were surprisingly fun for such a ratchet game. The first time I rolled the car, brilliant! (Although it nearly wiped out my entire health bar.) I love a good drift, too, and this didn’t disappoint. Though I do think the vehicles that would’ve naturally have more storage space (pick-ups, vans, and trucks) should’ve been granted a few more storage blocks. Got it right with the fuel reserves. Why not storage space? Hear me, Reuban Games… STORAGE SPACE!!
That and the actual bug… but we’ll get to that.
Map wasn’t useless, but weirdly set up. Could have simply shown a full map upon select; but nope, it was a reference map. Essentially, you’ll mainly rely on the minimap.
Another win for Dead Static Drive was that loading screens be damned… almost. It’s basically just you travelling along the road until a new town/area has loaded. You get a chance to level up your relationship with your followers by choosing some pretty bland dialogue options. Don’t know why you do it really either. I thought they’d have more uses, but really, all they do is follow, occasionally open doors, and attack; unless I missed something.
The entire story is driven by pretty mild dialogue. Although basic, I don’t mind this format; although, even if short, a little cut scene or a few more narrative moments would’ve been welcomed.
The loot system was… not bad. I loved the fact I could find bags and backpacks that take up a single storage block while containing multiple blocks within. Just… don’t crash a car with stuff in the boot; it disappears and is replaced with scrap metal… dumb.
Not a huge fan of camera angles and having to spin it with bumpers. Also, I would have liked a slightly better 3rd person view… like, just a bit closer and have a follow cam. Spinning the camera constantly is not what I want to be doing in 2025.
The story progresses fine, but the missions themselves (at least at the start and for a good while) are lacking in imagination and entertainment — it’s mostly just travelling to locations to complete things… weak.
Enemies were varied and interesting in ways of design, but none overly hard to kill as long as you have ammunition for any rifle — which, as long as you do some basic looting, isn’t hard to find and is also sometimes dropped by many of the creatures.
Now, the bloody downfall!
The main part of the game is driving, and a few hours into my playthrough, the driving mechanics bugged, and whatever I did, the vehicles just veer, reversed, and crashed into everything. Essentially, they did whatever they wanted to do. It was like someone else was driving.
I reloaded multiple times (which also, the load system would’ve benefitted from multiple saves to go back and cover this issue).
Overall: great idea, poorly executed. The bug didn’t anger me… it just disappointed me.
3.8 / 10
If you want a similar experience, better executed — but with Zombies — go for State of Decay (1 or 2).
- Oh, Mental Health…
Oh, mental health, how fragile you can be.
Bereavements, breakups, and things that you cannot see.
Hair triggers that can set you off and shoot you out to sea.
Oh, mental health, how violent you can be.
The waves there are wild, so dark and so cold.
In all directions mist rises, while a madness takes hold.
Oh, mental health, how fearsome you can be.
Like beasts in the mind, let loose in a rage,
Rampaging and whispering things that make you afraid.
Oh, mental health, how deceptive you can be.
When you can’t trust your own mind, what can you do?
Withdraw? Fight? Breathe? Or become one with the loops?
“Oh, mental health, you won’t beat me, you’ll see!”
Say it right now, through tears and the pain.
Say it quiet, and loud, and then say it again.
This life comes in seasons, so if anything… wait!
Stay home, be in nature, and speak to your mates.
Oh, mental health, how resilient you can be. - Who am I? Relationship Greif Musing
(This is a deeply personal reflection and musing after a kind spirit bestowed such beautiful and much needed truth onto me during a dark night of the soul.
I was unaure about sharing this, but may resonate with others, too.)
Relationship Grief
Oh, the woes of relationship grief… how sharp, how consuming, how quietly corrosive they can be. I’ve been through the tumble recently. The waves have been choppy, stormy, and relentless, but they are calming.
I’m an emotional creature. I feel things deeply. This is not a problem, but seems like one in a world where stoicism is being misinterpreted for a cold, uncaring rhetoric; a rhetoric that tells us emotion is weakness, that to be strong is to feel nothing, when true stoicism has always been about riding the currents of feeling with awareness and presence.
A nurse came to me today and out of the blue told me to never change. To stay interested in others even when I’ve been ignored. To keep giving love and attention even when I’ve been scorned. To stay a positive light even when I feel the dusk looming.That was everything. Humans are meant to support and breathe inspiration and empathy onto one another.
“You are such a positive presence; you don’t deserve what you’ve been through — foolish though it sounds, you may have been sometimes. I can see your soul, and it is good.”This is poetry of another pure soul.
It is a strange kindness to be seen clearly when you’ve forgotten how to see yourself.
I was reminded that not everyone can meet you at your capacity, and some even want to make you the villain in their story because they cannot cope with real; with such genuine love. That hit hard.
Truth is often rewritten by those who fear it.
I’ve been gaslit and expected to be something I’m not; to accept coldness and distance as normality; and to never share feeling or emotion, no matter how calm, as it’ll be answered with defensiveness, a mocking demeanour, anger, and even hatred.
Openness was treated as something dangerous rather than something human.
Boundaries were not taken seriously and were often thrown back in my face.
As if asking for clarity was an act of aggression.
“You deserve everything you were asking for and more,” I was told. My heart lifted with my eyes. “You’re a really good dude; we all see that.”
As she spoke, I thought of my amazing friends, and the things they’ve told me time and time again.
Kind words can feel foreign when you’ve lived a while without hearing them spoken honestly.
The fact I didn’t believe it for a moment speaks volumes.
I smiled. A beautiful soul is the true beauty of any individual.
“Unlearning unworthiness takes longer than learning pain.” That statement ricocheted around my brain for a few moments.
“You go out of your way to help people, and by the sounds of it, all you did was try and help your partner. Okay, we all have our shitty moments, but you seemed to have given so much with so little returned; I’m surprised you put up with it all for so long. You’re a catch, Andy. Don’t forget it.”
Sometimes the truth arrives from outside, because the noise in your own head has been too loud for your heart to hear itself.
My eyes welled there and then.
I was… I am.
I didn’t deserve the level of toxicity from her, or the so-called mutual friend who fed her negative affirmations and enabled the constant drinking, moping, and hate for life or growth.
My partner’s sight had become obstructed by the walls she’d built to protect herself. The thing is, she added bricks to the section I tried to climb — so I might share in a beautiful new sunrise with her — while she broke a hole for someone who wanted her to sit in the dark with him.
It’s strange how that worked; how the perceived safety of such darkness cast shadows on the light.
Sometimes even the best intentions are met with resistance, and yet the heart that reaches out is never wasted.
“When I die, I’ll be proud that I tried” — that’s a song lyric right there.
I became public enemy number one for even suggesting ways to manage mental health (that she built her whole persona around, and always swore was so important to her), while he was a saint for saying… “another bottle of cheap offie wine?”
They would feed off each other’s misery… and I now understand that misery often disguises itself as intimacy. He would whisper “fuck exercise… gross” and “healthy living is a waste of time,” along with “take the path of least resistance.” This is not good advice, and if you ever have someone say these kinds of things (especially if you suffer from bipolar or other forms of mental health), and especially in regard to leaving a job you love or a person that values you, run away from them at once. They may seem to see you, but definitely don’t have your best interests at heart.
And somewhere within all of this, she could not hold space for me where that ‘mutual friend’ was involved. I don’t blame her. Bipolar is a heavy thing to carry, and I know how cruel that landscape can be. But when illness becomes the whole identity, when pain becomes the persona, there is little room left for growth… and even less for those who stand nearby, hands outstretched, hoping to help.
My nurse friend reminded me that it was abuse, control, and gaslighting I underwent; whether my partner knew she was doing it or not. I didn’t know; I couldn’t see it. She’d all but convinced me I was worthless, manipulative, a villain. I almost began believing it too.
Maybe she needed to create that, so she didn’t have to break the illusion cast before her by upbringing, bipolar, and not least of all the tick-like codependent with his depressive teeth locked in.
Some people build narratives not to harm others, but to survive themselves — shaped by years of hardship, instability, and coping mechanisms that once protected them, even if they no longer serve. I cannot change that, and I will not try any longer if they value self-deprecating behaviours and nasty little yes-men.
Thanks to the shining light of the nurse’s soul, I now recognise it all, and although I still have my own journey and lessons to face, I know being kind, caring, open, supportive, loving, and clear with intentions and boundaries is not control; it is authenticity.
Love that asks for clarity is not a cage — it is a bridge.
Now I know that although I’ve had my moments, my own mental health slips and emotional reactions, it was because I was never met, never seen as another complex human being, and treated as though I was a daddy long-legs in the home of an arachnophobe.
You can only shout so long into a void before your voice begins to break.
I don’t hate her (or him — although I’d like to send him on a one-way trip to Timbuktu); I don’t hate… period. Hate is not an emotion I entertain. But I now know my own worth like the back of my hand. I know there’s people out there that may say “I love you” and find ways to nurture distrust and miscommunication; people that ask you how you are with a smile as they plot your downfall. Just as I know that some people aren’t ready for the same growth I myself hold so important.
Knowing this does not harden the heart — it sharpens the senses.
And whether they know it or not, they are sabotaging their own chances of being truly happy, not mine.
“Self-betrayal is the quietest form of destruction. And that works in so many ways,” said the nurse. (A philosopher, scholar, and saint — I’m sure of it.)
So, I can only wish the toxic people informative journeys and teaching moments to one day illuminate their own self-worth that drags their mind through the mud; and to those that are authentic and real, to such positive forces, and those that know how to use their heart properly, I wish for them everything they ever desire — that usually isn’t much, but the love of a good person, understanding, truth, and time to enjoy their lives.
Peace does not require an audience. Growth does not require permission.
Healing doesn’t always require sacrifice;
But all require an open and attentive mind.
Learn like you’ll live forever, live like you’ll die tomorrow — Socrates - What’s a Soul To Do? | Poetic Prose
I’ve woken today with the weight of the lead cape that I’ve been carrying lately disappeared. The spell is broken.
I am free of the illusion. The mask came off, and what I now see is not what I thought I knew. This person is changed.
But so they are, angels doused in blood, screaming their fanfare that is so drastically out of tune. Yet, so proud. Pride… ego… fear… hate… these are words I’ve worked hard to understand and never use in vain.So I be… a human laid bare to the will of moonlight and day. The ever turning cog in this machine of existence. The cosmic wave of life that brings such ebs and flows that makes life so beautiful.
Two souls meet to teach, each soul protects, one soul is what is found if you keep unearthing jewels.
What a fool I had been, to think I was unworthy of love.
- ‘Seeking the Treasure of Pharaoh Al’pha’ from the Alpha, Omega, & the Infinite | Flash Fiction
The second story from my portfolio project ‘Alpha, Omega and the Infinite‘ had been unearthed.
The first chapter ‘Alpha‘ features two flash fiction pieces with video game content in mind.The second story of Alpha is called ‘Seeking the Treasure of Pharaoh Al’pha’ and is delivered as a series of mysterious scrolls uncovered by an adventurer in pursuit of the lost treasure of Pharaoh Al’pha. Each scroll offers cryptic directions, riddles, and ominous warnings.
It’s written in an Old English–style for readability — not ancient Egyptian — because:
1. I don’t know ancient Egyptian
2. Most people don’t know ancient Egyptian
3. I’d like people to be able to read it who don’t know ancient Egyptian.
Please drop a like, reshare, and what you thought in the comments. If you’re reading this, know I appreciate you.
- A Dark Night of the Soul | Poetic Prose
I’ve woken today with the weight of the lead cape that I’ve been carrying lately disappeared. The spell is broken.
I am free of the illusion. The mask came off, and what I now see is not what I thought I knew. This person is changed.
But so they are, angels doused in blood, screaming their fanfare that is so drastically out of tune. Yet, so proud. Pride… ego… fear… hate… these are words I’ve worked hard to understand and never use in vain.
So I be… a human laid bare to the will of moonlight and day. The ever turning cog in this machine of existence. The cosmic wave of life that brings such ebs and flows that makes life so beautiful is violent.
Two souls meet to teach, each soul protects. One soul is what is found if you keep unearthing jewels.
What a fool I had been to think I was unworthy of love.
- ‘Alpha Wolf’ from the Alpha, Omega, & the Infinite | Flash Fiction
The first part of my new little portfolio project is here.
Alpha, Omega, and the Infinite.
The first chapter ‘Alpha’ features two flash fiction pieces with video game content in mind.
Find the first story,’Alpha Wolf’ — told through the medium of a series of jounal entries — below.
Please drop a like, reshare, and what you thought in the comments. If you’re reading this, know I appreciate you.Support Independent Writers 🙏
Follow on Instagram for more—
https://www.instagram.com/p/DT99yzMjNiP/?igsh=MWo2Y2k4anMxZHJndA== - A Growing Soul | Poem
Frantic is the soul that longs;
that yurn it hurts just to belong.A heavy weight tied around the heart,
cast to sea to swim with sharks.Don’t worry, though; you have a knife.
It’s double-edged, but that is life.Fear is all that holds us down;
Courage, the wings that fly us out.The horizon we see atop the storm,
& the sun that peeks is pretty warm.It banishes a thought of dark despair,
Casts our worries to the air.The grey dissolves, and truth comes forth.
A new day, new challenge arrives with dawn.But ride the clouds and taste the waves.
Lead from the heart; be not afraid.We are all man, or woman kind.
Sometimes we’re cold; sometimes we’re blind.But never forget your power, though.
Be you, you’re them; it’s time to grow.
- A Very Short Poem About Uncertainty | Poetry
Icy the wind of uncertainty;
Dull the landscape of your fears.
Chance of survival — certainly.
There’s power in those tears.— Andrew Cripps
- Indie Game Review | Moonlighter
Dungeons: riches and fame await. But so, too, does danger and death. Whether merchant or hero, the journey is perilous. Be free, adventurer — I hope it is profitable.
Moonlighter was a small and lightly packed mixed bag.
Put together by Spanish studio Digital Sun, and released in 2018, the title contains fantasy, sci-fi, and rogue-lite features. Crunching Koalas (another indie studio) also helped with the porting of a mobile version of the game that is available via Netflix. (I played the console version.)
It’s mainly a platformer; collecting artifacts and selling them in your late father’s shop. There’s not much to it after that. There were weapons, armour, and health you can upgrade along the way, as well as rings of power, new townsfolk to recruit, and even familiars that will follow you around and help you in battle. (I didn’t realise this was a thing until well into the game, though.)The game’s descriptions have no words, just a small series of pictures that pop up briefly — if that. So, it’s up to you to figure out what it means and what other secrets may be lurking in the game. (Upgrading your shop is another thing — Make sure you check your walls and surfaces.)
Deep within the Golem Dungeon. I wish that there’d been more movement available; even just a little. What I mean here is that it’s literally just one town and four caves (not including the final boss cave). Yes, each one is randomised when you enter, but including some neighbouring towns to visit would’ve made the game less samey and wouldn’t have you stuck in one spot, running back and forth repeatedly. Same with side quests — there were almost none other than item requests. And no real collectables — other than items to craft. Again, something that would’ve added some diversity to the game and taken the edge off the grind of collect, sell, upgrade, collect, sell, upgrade (rinse, repeat) that you will find yourself doing.
The shopkeeper side of the game was fairly fun actually, and a huge part of this minimalist title. Improvements were decent enough, but certainly could’ve been improved. The emporium upgrade allows for more actions, but you really won’t sell much from it before the game is finished — unless you want to go for 100%. (Which I could not.)
The Shop Retro art styles like Moonlighter’s will always win me over to some degree. With a slight overhead view like Pokémon or OG Zelda, the game had soft, sprite-based animation with simplistic music reminiscent of some lost retro fantasy game from the late 90s.
The wishlist function was a godsend. Especially if you’ve a memory as bad as mine. Utilise it or heamorage time.
Character naming and design wasn’t too unimaginative, though I’ll let it be known I’d always prefer to have the option to name my own character, especially in games that only have dialogue boxes and can be easily programmed.
Caution! Some levels are just minefields and can essentially set you up for an almost instant death — so if you play, check your health before moving rooms and be ready. And the Wanderer! This invincible, ever-chasing, malevolent ghost that moves between dimensions and smashes you and any loot that may be about — it’s not too hard to dodge, but don’t get caught in a boss fight with it following you. Pain in the ass, if anything. I’d have liked a fighting chance against this one-hit-KO monster. Also, some backstory might have been nice.
The Wanderer — desperate to smush me into the moss of the Forest dungeon. The entire story was a bit thin. There were lots of opportunities to divulge more information on the world, characters, creatures, and dungeons — other than finding camps and skeletal remains of dead adventurers, and talking to townsfolk — but it ended up a lacklustre outline of a story.
[SPOILER] And it ended a tad ridiculously: dimensional pirates, I dunno… *sighs*… I mean, okay, the closure wasn’t too bad, but at every turn, some creativity was neglected. The final twist kinda made me chuckle when I was told exactly what I’d been doing the entire game. Whoops; you’ll see if you play.
This game could have been absolutely amazing but ended up seeming a little rushed and somewhat sub-par in the way of story. Entertaining enough, but many ball drops when it came to design.
I’m going to give it a generous 6.3 / 10
Moonlighter 2: The Endless Vault is set to be released later this year, so we’ll see if they’ve made any improvements.
AllCripps & Ink 
