Cats! Some are sane, some are mad--

[eternalsolitude]

[{'Pet shop of Horrors' AU}]

---

[He was lying in what probably was the best sunbeam that had hit the house all day. Unlike a certain golden-furred idiot, he'd gotten up quickly to steal the best spot in the house (second only to Jekyll's lap) when the dull sun of a British sky shone down into the house of one good doctor.

Curled up in it comfortably, the middle of a hardly-used couch, this was--he thinks--the best that life has to offer. If only he could spend it alone, or perhaps with master around. But unfortunately, he can ear the repeated sounds of a certain golden-haired cat grooming one of his paws for what felt like the 19th time this hour.

His ear twitches, and he's more than certain he's doing it to bother him. Really.
He remembers the day Master had betrayed him in bringing the unfriendly beast home. Disturbing the perfect, single-cat home that he had lived in within an instant. A carrier that held the puffed out, pissed off 'Gilgamesh' who would proceed to eat more than his fair portion of food, and tended to hog the warmest, most comfortable places in the house.

Certainly, having someone to play with was sometimes fun--and maybe the stories the golden furball had to tell weren't the worst--but in every other way, he really was.

Arjuna stretches out on the couch in a show of just how comfortable he was on the couch. Dark eyes opening just a crack to see if he could see the other staring at him with jealousy.
He gets about two seconds to enjoy the grousing look on Gil's face, however. As in the third, there's a loud and hard to ignore smash from the back room.

In an instant, he's on his feet. Ears back, eyes blown wide. The sound had doubtlessly come from where master usually kept himself behind closed doors--but the sound was so alien that it was doubtless: Gilgamesh had to be on high alert, as well.]

That wasn't a good sound. Master is usually only too careful about his things.

The last time I heard that sound, it is when I knocked something over.

Should we not be concerned?

[And of course, he doesn't quite wait for Gil to answer--already hopping off the couch and tentatively starting to walk towards the hallway, on high alert. Follow or stay lazing on the windowsill, you puffy thing.]