The shortish, scrawny teenage boy who's plopped himself down in the seat across from Gideon examines the card, propping his sharp chin in the palm of his hand. The amount of white lace around his wrist makes him look a little like a mutant boy-flower, and the extent of it everywhere else doesn't detract from that impression.

"Does anyone really know what a pineapple is?" Alec muses, bringing his too-pale blue eyes up to Gideon's face. "Like, what kind of fruit tries to eat you back? Why do we tolerate that? Kind of fucked up."