What piece

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longafternoonnaps
@virgoOPPP
6 Years10,000+ Posts

Comments: 5390 · Posts: 10885 · Topics: 287
of literature (prose, poetry etc) reminds you of a certain sign? or maybe placement?

for example, this one reminds me of taurus men:

“The most terrifying force of death comes from the hands of Men who wanted to be left Alone. They try, so very hard, to mind their own business and provide for themselves and those they love. They resist every impulse to fight back, knowing the forced and permanent change of life that will come from it. They know that the moment they fight back, their lives as they have lived them, are over. The moment the Men who wanted to be left alone are forced to fight back, it is a form of suicide. They are literally killing off who they used to be. Which is why, when forced to take up violence, these Men who wanted to be left alone, fight with unholy vengeance against those who murdered their former lives. They fight with raw hate, and a drive that cannot be fathomed by those who are merely play-acting at politics and terror. TRUE TERROR will arrive at these people’s door, and they will cry, scream, and beg for mercy… but it will fall upon the deaf ears of the Men who just wanted to be left alone.”
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neves
@neves
9 Years1,000+ Posts

Comments: 1155 · Posts: 4750 · Topics: 13
"When you get what you want in your struggle for self

And the world makes you king for a day

Just go to the mirror and look at yourself

And see what that man has to say.

For it isn’t your father, or mother, or wife

Whose judgment upon you must pass

The fellow whose verdict counts most in your life

Is the one staring back from the glass.

He’s the fellow to please – never mind all the rest

For he’s with you, clear to the end

And you’ve passed your most difficult, dangerous test

If the man in the glass is your friend.

You may fool the whole world down the pathway of years

And get pats on the back as you pass

But your final reward will be heartache and tears

If you’ve cheated the man in the glass."

..something something Leo
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Princes_Qajar
@Princes_Qajar
3 Years500+ Posts

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Posted by virgoOPPP

of literature (prose, poetry etc) reminds you of a certain sign? or maybe placement?

for example, this one reminds me of taurus men:

“The most terrifying force of death comes from the hands of Men who wanted to be left Alone. They try, so very hard, to mind their own business and provide for themselves and those they love. They resist every impulse to fight back, knowing the forced and permanent change of life that will come from it. They know that the moment they fight back, their lives as they have lived them, are over. The moment the Men who wanted to be left alone are forced to fight back, it is a form of suicide. They are literally killing off who they used to be. Which is why, when forced to take up violence, these Men who wanted to be left alone, fight with unholy vengeance against those who murdered their former lives. They fight with raw hate, and a drive that cannot be fathomed by those who are merely play-acting at politics and terror. TRUE TERROR will arrive at these people’s door, and they will cry, scream, and beg for mercy… but it will fall upon the deaf ears of the Men who just wanted to be left alone.”


😐
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longafternoonnaps
@virgoOPPP
6 Years10,000+ Posts

Comments: 5390 · Posts: 10885 · Topics: 287
can't confirm the sign of its creator but it's part of DBD lore and screams virgo to me:

When she was five years old, Adiris, the youngest of a family of seven, was left on the brick-red burning steps of the Temple of Purgation at the centre of Babylon. To process her shock and sorrow, she held onto the belief that the Gods had a plan for her. Her new life was one of quiet servitude. She would tend to the gardens, prepare ceremonial meals, and polish ceremonial incense burners. At night, she would pray for a sign that would reveal her purpose.

When she came of age, she attended the high-ranking priests during the yearly worshipping of the sea-goat, the God of Water and Creation. Swinging a censer down the great hypo- style hall, she cast thick black fumes that reached the cold towering stone pillars before dissipating. Her worries lifted, and the resulting bliss made her feel closer to the Gods than ever. She worked herself to the bone each day that followed, fulfilling her duties while taking on new ones, as she aided the priests during purification rituals.

The priests were more and more in need of assistance. Cleansings were being performed daily to answer the demand from outside the high temple walls, where a catastrophic plague had resurfaced. Within months, the priests contracted the disease. It did not take long before they became too weak to perform any kind of ritual. Adiris, having assisted many purification rituals, was the only one able to carry on. The swelling panic had to be contained, even if by a novice.

Anxious before her first ceremony, Adiris visited the priests' sanctuary chamber. When she lit the candles, she noticed a narrow opening at the back. Sliding through the gap, she reached a crypt hidden under the sanctuary. The chamber was bare except for the golden statue of a woman, who stood with outstretched hands, her fingers covered in jewels. It was the sign Adiris had been waiting for.

The great hall was packed with followers who bowed down as Adiris entered. She strode to the brick altar and grabbed a ceremonial dagger forged in silver, her ruby ringed fingers wrapping around the blade like claws. The sudden display of luxury intrigued the followers, who were struck already by her youth and beauty.

As she began reciting the Epic of Creation, a woman at the back swooned and collapsed. Adiris rushed to her and noticed the black blisters covering her feet. Without hesitation, Adiris grabbed her sacred blade and swung it at her own foot, severing a toe. Then she offered the bloody part to the Gods, asking them to protect the woman. A silence fell over the followers, who revered Adiris as their new priestess.

Tales of her wealth, beauty, and devotion began to spread across the city as quickly as the disease. Soon, Adiris' followers called her the High Priestess of Babylon.

But her faith was tried when she showed the first signs of infection; her cough became a mix of phlegm and blood, her neck erupted in abscesses, and her four-toed foot darkened. Ashamed of her condition, she began wearing a veiled headpiece and carried a censer that masked the rancid smell of sick that clang to her skin. Hoping to be saved, she kept performing the rituals, offering blessed water and food to her followers.

But no ritual could save her. In a desperate attempt to appease the Gods, Adiris banished herself from the city. She traveled north with a few followers, venturing through the cold woodlands of Urashtu, until it was no longer possible to walk.

They camped in a damp cave, where Adiris lay in a pool of vomit. Her foot, which had turned black, was so swollen she could not go any further. Her followers and she realised the truth in that cave: they were all infected with the plague.

Kneeling among her retching followers, Adiris made one last prayer. The black fumes of incense rose into the damp air before being wiped off by a cold breeze.

Neither the body of Adiris nor those of her followers were ever found. Many told tales of her return, but no one truly knew what fate had befallen the High Priestess of Babylon.