There is a small store, an unremarkable door under a forest green awning with one front window. An arch of foot-high gold Victorian-era letters spelling out "Ann Tique's Shoppe" adorn the front window, and are again repeated in one-inch letters on the glass of the door. As for the items displayed in the window, that changes over time. Some of them look normal, others not so much; some are downright obscene.

People only notice the door if they're looking for something, or if another person points it out to them. In that case, one may enter the Shoppe and cause the little tinkling bell above the door to ring. It's not a large place; there are several brass-and-glass shelves, each with a sampling of items both normal and odd. The sun shines its cheerful rays through the window regardless of the weather outside, and a moment after one comes in Ann comes out of the back to the counter.

Ann Tique is a young woman of about twenty with a radiant smile and candy apple red lips. She has a wasp waist which may or may not be the result of the tightly-laced black corset which also serves to lift and emphasize her moderately-sized breasts. Her skin is white almost to the point of pearlescence, which only makes her chestnut-brown eyes stand out all the more. Her high cheekbones and glossy midnight-black hair might suggest to the viewer that she is a vampire, but when she smiles there is no trace of fangs. Her sky-blue cotton dress swells in folds and ruffles across her chest, and lies gently in lace patterns from just below her shoulders down her slender arms to a small ruff at each wrist. Her half-inch fingernails are painted like her lips, one might say better to hide the blood she draws. Her hips swell in the enticing way that only those hidden by a floor-length blue pleated cotton dress can, and as she walks the sway of the dress hints at many illicit pleasures hidden beneath.

She smiles, revealing no fangs, and her voice emerges like a breath of warm butter with a faint hint of cinnamon.