"Nice to meet you, Claribel- and thanks for lunch! Or I guess this is more brunch, really."

She plucked the doughnut off the toothpick and crammed it into her mouth. So this was what having lunch with someone was like. It was nice- even if the other girl was kind of weird, and had shouted at Giko for no particular reason all of a sudden, but Giko was sure Claribel had her reasons. She leaned against a lamp post, across the street from the stall. It was small, ugly, and a unique cooking-oil-and-gunpowder aroma lingered in the air about the place. Three-fourths of the stall's face was dominated by a counter and a long, wooden bench. The remaining fourth was taken up by a workbench, above which hung a sign.

[center][b]BLACK POWDER PETE'S POWDERED DOUGHNUTS AND FIREARMS
GUNS MAINTAINED WHILE YOU EAT[/b][/center]

A small, ratlike man presumably named Pete worked behind it, frustratedly cleaning a pepperbox revolver and muttering something about "these damned newfangled Marine toys" as he did. Giko watched him absentmindedly as she ate, mangled bits of mashed-up, greasy dough falling out of her lifeless mouth as it worked up and down.  The puppeteer, for his part, just eyed the doughnuts with obvious hunger, wiping a little drool off on the back of his sleeve. He seemed to be making do with just smelling them. Giko looked back to Claribel, the lower half of her face covered in crumbs and powdered sugar.

"So what's with the, uh-", Giko tapped the side of her head, "-The shells? Are they some kinda fashion around these parts?"