C is dangerous like your uncle who drinks and smokes. Y’wanna make a weedwhacker-powered skateboard? Bitchin’! Nail that fucker on there good, she’ll be right. Get a bunch of C folks together and they’ll avoid all the stupid easy ways to kill somebody, in service to building something properly dangerous. They’ll raise the stakes from “accident” to “disaster.” Whether or not it works, it’s gonna blow people away.
C++ is dangerous like a quiet librarian who knows exactly which forbidden tomes you’re looking for. He and his… associates… will gladly share all the dark magic you know how to ask about. They’ll assure you, oh no no no, the power cosmic would never pull someone inside-out, without sufficient warning. They don’t question why a loving god would allow the powers you crave. They will show you which runes to carve, and then, they will hand you the knife.
Rust is like a paranoid overprotective guardian. A “mom friend”, of sorts. Always the designated driver of the group, keeps you from staying up too late, stops you from eating things that might be choking hazards without proper precaution, and so on and so forth. You’ll never meet a person more concerned with your health and safety – until, that is, you say the magic word “unsafe”. Suddenly the alter ego that their hypnotist implanted gets activated, and their entire demeanor changes on a dime. BMX biking? Bungee jumping? Inline assembly? Sounds like a great idea! Let’s go, man! Rules are for NERDS! Then the minute the unsafe block ends, they’re back to normal, fully cognizant of the adventure they just went on and thinking absolutely nothing of it. “Whitewater rafting with you guys was really fun, especially the part where Jason jumped into the water and I went after him! I’d best go get the first aid kit, though – that scrape he got when he did that looks like it might get infected. I know he said it didn’t hurt, but better safe than sorry!”
They kinda scare you when they’re like that, if you’re honest.
C is dangerous like your uncle who drinks and smokes. Y’wanna make a weedwhacker-powered skateboard? Bitchin’! Nail that fucker on there good, she’ll be right. Get a bunch of C folks together and they’ll avoid all the stupid easy ways to kill somebody, in service to building something properly dangerous. They’ll raise the stakes from “accident” to “disaster.” Whether or not it works, it’s gonna blow people away.
C++ is dangerous like a quiet librarian who knows exactly which forbidden tomes you’re looking for. He and his… associates… will gladly share all the dark magic you know how to ask about. They’ll assure you, oh no no no, the power cosmic would never pull someone inside-out, without sufficient warning. They don’t question why a loving god would allow the powers you crave. They will show you which runes to carve, and then, they will hand you the knife.
You have a talent for metaphor.
Rust is like a paranoid overprotective guardian. A “mom friend”, of sorts. Always the designated driver of the group, keeps you from staying up too late, stops you from eating things that might be choking hazards without proper precaution, and so on and so forth. You’ll never meet a person more concerned with your health and safety – until, that is, you say the magic word “unsafe”. Suddenly the alter ego that their hypnotist implanted gets activated, and their entire demeanor changes on a dime. BMX biking? Bungee jumping? Inline assembly? Sounds like a great idea! Let’s go, man! Rules are for NERDS! Then the minute the unsafe block ends, they’re back to normal, fully cognizant of the adventure they just went on and thinking absolutely nothing of it. “Whitewater rafting with you guys was really fun, especially the part where Jason jumped into the water and I went after him! I’d best go get the first aid kit, though – that scrape he got when he did that looks like it might get infected. I know he said it didn’t hurt, but better safe than sorry!”
They kinda scare you when they’re like that, if you’re honest.
I tried thinking of one for Rust, and ‘the mom friend with a safeword’ is alarmingly accurate.
The secret basement is never locked. It’s fine to go down there, alone. You’ll only be scarred on the inside.
It’s when you go down together that all bets are off.