'Floral Alchemy... isn't that the voodoo smut those toxin addicts rant about? Don't tell me you're one of them,' Phin scoffs, arms folded across his chest as he taps his foot impatiently.
Vesk sighs. 'Your personal assumptions on the matter are not important. You do know what it is, correct?'
'Yeah... hocus pocus here, hocus pocus there, poof, now I'm a human-Flora hybrid. It's genuinely one of the most depraved concepts I've ever heard of - it goes against every scientific law in existence!'
'Yes, yes, I get it, your bookworm-ass can't accept anything outside of your codex of scientific laws,' Vesk drawls sarcastically, rolling his eyes. 'What if I were to tell you that the Regals believe in Floral Alchemy - including Nostreimos himself?'
Phin raises a tentative brow, intrigued but quickly masking it behind a scowl. 'Not a big surprise. I've been questioning their sanity for years, now.'
The Black Market mogul smiles, knowing his bait had worked. 'Their belief, in fact, is corroborated by decades of covert research - research you, as a commoner, would not have access to.'
'Then what makes you so qualified?' Phin's gaze sharpens.
'The Black Market's bigger than you think,' Vesk replies casually, leaning against the wall. 'I have many ears.'
'And why does this even concern us? Nostreimos might as well be the King of the Florae and we wouldn't know, because you got us locked up, dipshit.'
Vesk frowns, flexing his bulging muscles. 'Don't test my patience, boy. I was going to answer your question, but since you wanna bitch, we can wait until tomorrow.'
'HEY!' Phin yells. 'How can you be so petty?!'
'I'm a Black Market boss, after all,' Vesk curtly replies, climbing into the bottom bunk and promptly falling asleep.
***
Phin aimlessly prods at his food, not feeling the slightest bit of hunger. The cluttered suppertime ambience fills the prison mess hall; prisoners - mostly commoners - huddle in groups or skulk alone in the concrete cafetorium.
Pabulum banalica... he sighs, staring at the ugly lump of Flora flesh. Also known as, literally, 'banal fodder.' Even now, Phin's keen Flora knowledge kicks in subconsciously, which only made things worse.
Oh man... those musty cobwebbed encyclopedias... that damn light switch that just won't work... he nearly breaks into tears, remembering his old life - the peaceful mundanity of a Seed Appraiser. Suddenly, Phin's share of food is snatched and crudely gobbled up, dousing him in rancid Flora juice.
'Mmm... truly exquisite. I might stay here just for the food,' quips Vesk, embracing a complete turnaround in mood after his nap. Despite having lost some muscle mass due to inaccessibility of Juicers, he still towers over the average prisoner. He puts a hand on Phin's shoulder and smiles cheerfully.
'How can you be so happy? Your life is ruined. So is mine,' Phin spits, words laced with vitriol. He buries his head in his hands, sobbing quietly.
Vesk laughs, a hearty, booming exclamation that draws many confused looks. 'Phin, my boy. You act like it's my first time here. I've got ten life sentences stacked up on five separate arrests. I'll be fine.'
'Just... leave me alone.'
Mouth still full of Flora slop, Vesk looks down at the slumped figure beside him. 'Damn it, you're playing the pity card well.'
No response.
'Alright, fine, as a charitable soul, I guess it's my obligation to answer your question from earlier.'
No response.
Vesk shifts to a whisper, crouching down. 'You've been on both Regal and Black Market hotlists for years. Simply put, you're able to examine Seeds at the genetic scale. It's like Appraisal, but amplified thousandfold. You may not be able to sense it, but you've been documented displaying hints of this power many times. Both our - uh - noble cause and the vile aristocrats believe it's the key to Floral Alchemy, the bridge to truly understanding the nature of Seeds.'
Whistling lightheartedly, the hulking man casually walks away, fully aware that the dormant, unresponsive Phin had caught every word.
Genetic analysis...? Phin wonders, trying to recall any instances in which he performed something similar. *Sigh.* It's probably all bullshit. The sicko just wanted someone to toy with... he reasons, losing hope with every passing second. He stayed there for hours, a hollow shell, until the guards finally hauled him back to his cell.
***
Vesk's brutish snoring reverberates through the lightless cell, a haunting melody that torments the wide-awake Phin. I'm really sleeping above a murderer... he realizes, the absurdity of it all nothing more than another tragic irony.
The vividity of the altercation-turned-bloodbath that morning still lingers in his mind - the first of several unfortunate events. Hell, unfortunate's an understatement, Phin bitterly laughs in his head. Who was I to become an Appraiser? Percy, Amara, and 'em... all making big buck at the SciDep now. Man, how long has itbeen... he sinks even further into gloom as he reminisces about his schoolmates.
His world had crumbled, but he still bore the weight of its shattered pieces, like a modern Atlas. Overwhelmed, he screams at the top of his lungs, the piercing, guttural noise drowning out Vesk's snores.
As the silence sets back in, Phin laughs, an uncontrollable fit of giggles coming from who-knows-where. Somehow, Vesk was still asleep - his rhythmic snoring unperturbed. If he were awake he'd beat my ass... Phin smiles. With this thought, he finally falls asleep, acquiescing to the offer of solace in oblivion.