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CastleSilver

I hate pencils.
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My Bio
There is much merit in simplicity.

Favourite Visual Artist
IBRX?
Favourite Movies
Too many to remember
Favourite TV Shows
Power Rangers Ninja Storm, that or Dragon Ball, or maybe Tom And Jerry
Favourite Bands / Musical Artists
DannyB, Metallica, and whoever did RuneScape's music
Favourite Books
Most things written by those mentioned below
Favourite Writers
Jamie Brindle, Roald Dahl and Daniel Defoe
Favourite Games
You're not gonna make me pick a favourite
Favourite Gaming Platform
Normal tables and normal swivel chairs
Tools of the Trade
Anything within arm's reach
Other Interests
Singing, firearms and cooking

Sourdough

10 min read
A bell rang, and with it the time for commerce was over. Jeoffrey poked his head outside the store's window, trying to remember when was a bell installed in the town square. He dusted his apron ineffectively as he came upon the coals of his oven, puzzled by how poorly prepared he was for the end of the day. He singed his finger on a loose spark, retaliating with a muffled curse. Time management was always his strong suit, he thought, which contradicted his current punctuality, or lack thereof. Suddenly, the doorbell jingled."We're closed, sorry." Jeoffrey called out from underneath his counter. The room was quiet, which added to the baker's confused state.Did whoever walk in just stand still? He thought, then poked his head out. The room was empty. Baffled even further, he looked around twice. Did someone walk in or out? "Hello?" He called in vain. Before he could react further, he realised that a person was standing behind the only shelf his store contained. "Can I help you? Sir?" The
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Another Go

0 min read
"What? How- no, NO!" He opened the closet, and found himself staring blankly upon nothing for what felt like an eternity, he slammed it shut and sat down on the corner of the bed which creaked under his weight, he stared across the room at the discoloured part of the wall and placed his face within his palms. The thought then kicked in, he got up and ran to the basement, the dust cleared as he made his way to the machine in the other side of the darkness; shrouded in cloth, and hesitated a second before uncovering its chamber. He walked to the controls and began operating the rusted levers with haste, giving the panel a desperate kick to acti
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The Baron entered the room, greeted with the respectful silence of the guests of that evening. Acknowledging the importance of his presence, he walked across the colourful Turkish carpet down to the mansion's lawn, feasting his eyes upon the great multicultural buffet before him, exotic spices danced under the moonless sky as the aroma pleased the noses of all who caught it, harvested from lands far oversea and weighed in gold to bring pleasure to both the wealthy and eccentric. Out of compulsive courtesy, he was handed a platter to murder his hunger, not even glancing to respond with a nod nor a smile, he skipped quickly down to the oriental
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