Editing Setting:InfiniCon/Lore (section)

==Godwyn's Story==
''Anonymous''

Right, so it's been a few months since I've told my story about moving to InfiniCon, so here's how things are shaping up; 

My landlord of sorts, the weird girl, has been doing all kinds of occult experiments. I've shown some interest in a few of them and despite some wariness she decided to let me help on a couple of them. Needless to say, after that giant face came out of the wall and screamed some horrible death cry at us our working relationship was over. My friend has gotten -really- into his character, Cid Highwind. I keep hearing a lot of banging, swearing, engine revving, and yet more swearing out in the back. I know what he's trying to do, and I recommended against it, but he just shrugs me off. Dumbass.

I've been keeping busy in my own ways. When I make the occasional excursion out of our tiny, narrow apartment into the dark streets it's usually to set up shop in my prop stand. I mostly sell foam boffers, and stuff like that but I've occasionally been paid really well to make a few more..."sturdy" props. I don't care what they do with them, I don't want to know.

Most of my customers are the real weird types. Furries, and worse. I don't care much what their deal is, so long as their money is good. I'm trying to save up as much as I can to get out of the dark streets, and head over to the Scifi district. I hear they're in need of a decent prop maker, and space is limited. Also pricey. Anyhow, a few weeks ago some guy in a long leather coat comes up to my stand and starts looking around at my wares. I've seen them around before, watching me. He kept his face hidden under a wide brimmed hat. I asked him what I could do for him.

"I want you to come with me. I've heard about you, and some of the...special pieces you've made. You've caused a lot of trouble for us." He reaches into his pocket, and just as I'm about to pull out a chair leg I had stowed away he flashes the Rosarius from the 40k universe. So, he was an Inquisitor. Basically the scifi district's secret police, or so they would have you believe.

All the same, messing with this guy wouldn't be smart. So I just nodded and let him lead the way.

He took me to a waiting cab. The same girl from before was there, looking really nervous. This time she ditched the scar and blue hair and was sporting long pink drill hair. She saw me and gave just the faintest hint of a smile before seeing the Inquisitor. She rushed to open the doors, and hopped into the driver's seat. "Take us to the scifi district. The 40k apartment complex." 

The trip over was dead quiet. The normally bubbly and talkative driver was scared stiff. Was this guy really that dangerous, or was this all a case of "immersion"? When we got to the apartment complex I could scarcely believe my eyes. Buildings piled on top of buildings, with grand statues leering down at us. Many I recognized at once. I saw Space Marines in outfits of varying quality stomping around. It seemed that those with the better costumes were in charge over the rest.