Fluke was concerned. Rage and Hollow had been acting so strangely during the stream, and he didn't know what to make of their character transplant. They were like different people. He ran a few possibilities through his mind. Aliens? Drugs? Illuminati? No, the only explanation is that they had some kind of mental illness.
He logged onto his computer and google searched their … "symptoms". He came up with: PTSD; acute stress disorder; schizophrenia. He kept scrolling down until he came to...
"Rage's plague inc. video?"
"Hello everyone, and welcome to –"
"Curaxu's school of hard blocks!"
"I thought I said I would do the intro,"
"The show is named after me, so I should do it,"
"- And I told you, it's my channel! I'm doing it,"
Curaxu and Hollow bickered for a further five minutes, before reluctantly coming to a compromise.
"Hello everyone!" They said in unison, "Welcome to Curaxu's school of hard blocks,"
Hollow scowled, irked by Curaxu's voice grating on his ears,
"Yes, we are back! The last series went a bit stale, but now, we are doing something new! So Cura, what are we doing?"
"A hunger games map!" Curaxu exclaimed in his soothing Flemish tones, "and hopefully you will be able to build a hunger games map of your own with out my help,"
"yeah..." That was his long term goal after all, and he should be grateful for Curaxu's help, but he just felt irritated.
/undo. Ten minutes into the episode, and Hollow was already sick of making mistakes. Curaxu wasn't helping at all, just blabbing the same instructions over and over ... and now a fly was buzzing around his room. Just perfect. What was Curaxu talking about now? Depth. On and on and on about depth. Hollow was sick of depth. Screw depth.
Now they were finally finished, Hollow had to admit that what they'd done, looked cool. Maybe Curaxu's advice wasn't so useless after all. That didn't mean he didn't want to ditch the man as soon as he could. He may be knowledgeable, but he was getting in the way of his creative mastery! Harping on about depth, depth, depth.
Hollow's annoyance was near tangible, except Curaxu who was seemingly oblivious to Hollow's dark mood, or possibly tactically ignoring the situation.
Over the next three days, Hollow's mood got progressively worse. Even Curaxu's cheery facade was starting to wear thin after Hollow's constant barrage of complaints. Eventually it came a point of standstill, and Curaxu realised nothing more would get done today.
"Let's call it a day, I think we have enough for now"
"Ugh fine, didn't want to listen to you anymore anyway"
"I'll pretend I didn't hear that. Bye Aaron"
"Bye."
A couple days later they attempted to record a new episode. Complete and utter failure. Hollow was in a foul mood from the very start, but very soon, Curaxu was joining him in a torrent of short rants about the price of paper clips and unavailability of zebra themed pillow cases in Belgium. Curaxu hadn't even remembered ever being in dire need of zebra décor, but even so; all he knew was he couldn't find any websites which shipped them to Belgium.
"So, you take your brush tool," Curaxu explained impatiently- upset at Hollow not getting it after 6 episodes, "and you... you...". Curaxu tried out different combinations of words, in the hopes that one of the concoctions he conjured up would do something impressive.
/sphere p ~~1~160. /dome quartz 5. /pos 1, /pos 2, /replace air glass- FUCK! He couldn't remember how to Minecraft. He couldn't do it. He was as bad as Hollow. Hollow, the bastard, meanwhile was humbly choosing blocks from Curaxu's palette and trying to build a detailed wall with lots of depth. Maybe Curaxu would have better luck with that. Better than Hollow's pitiful attempts, anyway.
He jumped down to Hollow's level and started building, letting the clicking consume him- feeling the cooling sensation of his natural instinct wash over him. He ignored Hollow's continuous whines of, "Er, Cura." and "Dude, dude". At last happy with the depth, he took a step back and smiled as he came to face to face with a fire engine red pentagram.