“ Abubu’s birthday is coming up. ”
Who could’ve possibly imagined that five words alone, spoken offhandedly by one of the juniors, would be enough to set off this outlandish chain of events?
From the moment the sentence was uttered, he had known himself to be doomed, for his fate had already been sealed.
Fulfilling ludicrous requests has been part of Jamil’s duty for as long as he’s had use of reason and, at this point, they should no longer phase him. Under Kalim’s leadership, seeing to the preparations of inopportune, asinine parties has become long since become part of his daily routine at Scarabia. As might be expected of someone living under such a regimen, Jamil is hardly a stranger to making last-minute arrangements for grand events conceived without a modicum of foresight or a semblance of sound judgement.
Under regular circumstances, birthdays are actually the most tolerable of those instances. At the very least, Jamil can prepare for those banquets in advance. Though ostentatious and wholly unnecessary, they remain relatively innocuous, and he supposes there’s no real harm in making members of Scarabia feel appreciated.
Problem is, Abubu is not a student.
No, of all things, this esteemed member of their dorm happens to be of a more pachydermic nature.
Indeed— Scarabia abruptly decided to hold a banquet for an elephant. Then, at the eleventh hour, and to no one’s surprise, the responsibility of arranging it had befallen Jamil.
As it does. Every time. Without fail.
Again, he shouldn’t be surprised. This much is nothing unusual, and it’s hardly the worst thing he’s ever had to deal with. But that thought does little to quell the aggravation brewing within him. If anything, it magnifies it.
A birthday party for an elephant, that much is fine, but it wouldn’t stop there. Why would it? Oh no, of course it wouldn’t. Once you throw a banquet for one of the animals, you must celebrate the entire lot. Every peacock. Every monkey. Every camel. Every bear; anything to keep them from feeling unappreciated or hurt! What's good for the goose is good for the gander, says the turn of phrase, but with the ever-present soreness of his hootenanny injuries, Jamil would rather not think about idiomatic geese.
Now, he’s standing halfway across Sage Island, loading a number of toys onto Kalim’s magic carpet. The ‘party favours’ he’s holding had been especially commissioned as a gift for Scarabia’s entire menagerie; each of them attests to an intricate and fine crafting, and they are as beautiful as they are expensive. However, having been commissioned at the last possible moment, timely delivery all the way to campus hadn’t been possible, and Jamil was tasked with picking them up himself. The sheer number of knick-knacks was so excessive it’d prove impossible to fly back on the carpet with them, leaving Jamil effectively stranded.
The carpet must share some of his frustrations, because its tassels flail dejectedly under all the added weight.
« Sorry about this, » he sighs, running a hand across the silk in a feeble attempt at comfort. « I don’t want to do this either, you know…»
Once everything’s been placed and secured, the carpet begins to ascend slowly, rising over Jamil and towards the sky.
« Make sure to get those to Kalim safely, » he instructs. « I’ll catch up with you later. »
Almost as if nodding in affirmation, the carpet’s tassels shake once again before it takes off. As it fades into the horizon, Jamil is left alone with his greatest source of torment.
Looming behind him is an object wrapped with dull fabric. It stands at almost three metres in height, and weighs several hundreds of kilograms. With no broom, no carpet, no source of transportation at his disposal, Jamil must find a way to get back to campus, somehow bringing along this accursed thing.
Beneath the dirt and patches
You are a diamond in the rough, @hyaina
