Evil Quill-Weave:Origin Part 1

Story by bluedraggy on SoFurry

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I love Evil Quill-Weave. Even when Kaz created her as a sort of joke to tie in with a raid on a pony-art contest, I knew she is too good of a character to be a one-off. So when I did a color-job on a sketch by Kaz, I started thinking of her origin story. I came up with this. As with most of my stuff, it's risque but not a sex romp. It's meant for adults as is Prequel really. I call this Part 1. I'm not 100% sure there will be a Part 2. However, my mind is reeling at where I could take this.

Unlike Tails of the Khajiit, this isn't illustrated. Maybe someday if Kaz goes back to doing commissions I might get some, but I think it works okay as a standalone wall-of-text for those that don't mind reading. Be proud, those of you who are. There are less and less of you every day!


Author's note: After working on that Evil Quill-Weave picture, I got inspired to write another fanfic. Not sure if/when I'll continue it, but here it is. It seems inane to post the same image again, so instead I'll post an image of my Evil Quill-Weave mod from Skyrim that I use as a Avatar sometimes. The rest is, alas, a wall of text.

The idea had been fermenting in her for months. 'Foment' might be the better word choice, she realized, but with the added implication of alcohol involvement it seemed more appropriate. It was during her travels doing research on the doomstones that it had truly moved from fanciful thought process to a more concrete notion. A rumor had come to her of an undocumented doomstone deep in the forests south of the Corbolo River. Since a known doomstone, the Shadow Stone, was in the region anyway it made sense to travel there.

Of course she had gotten lost, but in a very real sense, that was kind of the goal. She'd hired a retainer to act as her guide and, though practically mute, he seemed competent enough. Then they came across a site she'd not expected. It was a tower, long abandoned but still serviceable, hidden deep within the forest and apparently completely forgotten. Upon her return from her travels, she hadn't mentioned it to anyone. It was her secret, she decided. Well, her and that retainer. But she'd paid him well to keep quiet, not that he apparently knew any other way, the faceless Mook. She didn't even tell her lover, Castia, and that was saying something.

However, it was Castia that really was the impetus that began Quill-Weave's descent into evil. Of course, she'd long been fascinated with the criminal element of society, yet they never measured up to her imagination. Inevitably, when you got right down to it, the criminal mind was one of two types. One was usually a decent enough chap who was pushed into law-breaking by circumstances beyond his control, then realized he liked it. As long as you didn't cross him or threaten to expose him, he was likely to be a nice guy really.

Then there were the crazies. Sociopathic nutjobs who would do whatever they felt like, at any time, to anyone. Those were the dangerous types and she tried to spot them quickly and then head the other way. But even they were... random. They weren't like the characters in her books, who were always scheming up some nefarious plot or another. The sociopaths were just nutjobs who had no filter for any whim that blew across their mind. That's not really evil. It's more like they're just animals who never developed higher civilized brain function. Those types she didn't like though, and on more than one occasion she let slip a clue or two for the Legion.

Okay, maybe "clue" would be too subtle. She practically handed them notes saying "So and so did this. Here's proof. Arrest him." The Legion wasn't known for its deep cunning or wit.

But an author knows more than most how deep words can cut. Being called a stick-in-the-mud would have been a trivial offense to most. But Quill-Weave was particularly susceptible to its deeper implications. She had spent years writing her series on the lowlifes of Cyrodil, and some of those 'lowlifes' had become pretty damned 'high' in the political world in that time. She was more than a little aware of just how bourgeois her own life had become, and in the back of her mind she resented it. So it only took a little spark to set her off.

She sat up in bed suddenly one night, realizing what she had to do. She had to become that which she had sought for all her life. She had to become Evil Incarnate. Her search for it in the criminal classes had been fruitless. It didn't exist. But she was an author. She knew what it must look like and how it must act. And she had enough resources now to make it reality. So she took a special trip to the Imperial City to visit a tailor she knew who worked in specialty products that only certain trades would have a need for.

In front it appeared to be just another shop marketing trinkets and small leather goods and watched over by an equally nondescript Khajiit. She recognized Quill-Weave when the author entered. A quick exchange and Quill was led through a door in the back, then climbed down a hidden trap door to an underground room of illicit and undeniably erotic fabrics, most of which would require a leap of imagination to call them clothing.

"So, the great author returns to this one's humble shop eh? Another story of prostitution perhaps you are working on?"

"Cut the Khajiit-talk Mae. I'm here as a customer this time, pure and simple. I need something... special."

"Alright, alright. I get so used to it I sometimes forget who I'm talking to. So, what are you looking for? Something lacy maybe? I've got this great new design for a G-string that can even handle an Argonian tail. Here, take a look!"

Quill-Weave took the pink undergarment with disdain, but then looked at it more closely. Try as she might, she couldn't figure out how the damned thing was supposed to work.

Mae took it back from her with a look of disgust. "You really have no experience at all, do you Quill? This is where the tail goes... here. Then this wraps around the front."

"But then that part is what goes over your... you? But it's not big enough to cover..."

"Not meant to cover it, silly lizard."

"But then why would you eve..."

"Oh forget it. What are you looking for?"

"I need something in leather. Black leather."

"Oh! I didn't figure you for the S&M type! Top or bottom?"

"Huh? Well, I need both a top and a bottom I guess."

The Khajiit rolled her eyes. "Newbie eh? No Quill, that refers to if you are the Dominant or the Submissive. Master or Slave?"

"Oh! Well then... Master. Definitively Master."

"Come this way. How do you feel about studs?"

"I'm not into men, Mae."

"Jeeze, no Quill. I mean metal studs. I've got a wide variety. Spikey, black, chrome. Here, take a look at this rack."

"Mae, I might like women, but that doesn't mean I want to see your tits!" Quill responded to a blank-faced Mae.

"So that's how it is eh?" the Khajiit finally responded when Quill let the smile creep over her face.

"Hey, you started it!"

"You're okay Quill, but puns are evil," the little Khajiit laughed, handing her an odd crotch-less pair of pants.

"Um... no Mae. I'm going more for a Master Villain look. Less sex, more severe."

Though she tried on some very, very interesting outfits, in the end Quill wasn't satisfied with any of them. None were quite right for the villain she was planning to become, though she did purchase a couple cute ones anyway just to have on hand should the need arise.

"Well, that's all we've got that will fit an Argonian. I'm afraid we're going to have to go Custom. Let's go into my office and see if we can come up with something more like what you have in mind."

Some minutes later, Quill was watching Mae do sketch after sketch as they both made adjustments.

"Now, about the bodice, do you see it as open or closed?"

Quill looked down at her chest. "I've not got much in that department. I guess closed."

Mae noticed the inherent disappointment in the Argonian's tone. "Nonsense Quill. Stand up."

She did as she was bid while the Khajiit boldly grabbed her under her tits and lifted them up and pushed them together. She squeaked.

"There, now what do you see?"

"I see a cat squeezing my boobs together. Without my permission I might point out!"

"Oh, lighten up Quill. I'm going to have to take measurements in a little bit, and I get need to get very accurate around your tail region. No, Quill, that's cleavage and plenty of it."

"But it's not real. You're just squeezing my boobs together."

"Honey, that's all cleavage is. And I can design it so you look like a double-D."

"Will it be comfortable, being squeezed like that?"

"Hell no. You're a Dominatrix remember. You're not supposed to be comfortable."

"Oh... yeah. Well then, open if you can make me look like that!"

The Khajiit hastily drew an open bodice.

"More... evil," Quill commented but a growing smile on her face.

Mae drew what looked almost like horns on the sides, but lowering the bodice even more to their sides.

"Thats... daring!" Quill said, though her wide eyes showed her approval. "My nipples won't show?"

"Darling, you're an Argonian. You have the distinct advantage of not _having_any nipples to worry about! Rock that advantage!"

"You're right. Let's go for it! Now, about the dress. I feel like it's missing something."

"Yes... You'll be practically exposed up top. It's too conservative below. How about a slit up the side?"

They both looked at the sketch for a minute.

"No, not enough," Mae admitted. "Two slits. WAAAY up."

Quill's smile became more pronounced. "I'll never be able to wear any underwear with that."

"Ah, but I've got just the thing for that. Transparent colored leggings underneath. It's my latest design."

"Do it Mae. How long?"

"I'll have it done in a week. Cash up front of course. You can take those other two outfits with you. If you're going to buy this, they're on the house. Now, it's time for measuring. Quill, don't be shy and let me do my work here. Humans have it easy with just two legs to worry about. Even Khajiits have smallish tails that don't require a lot of precision. But you Argonians have a massive tail that must be accommodated precisely. I need to know it's movements from full up to down flat to full left and full right if I'm to do a proper job. So, off with the clothes and lift your tail as high as it goes..."

An hour later, Quill felt like she'd just finished a workout with her lover.

"You sure you don't want to measure my depth? It seems like the only measurement you haven't taken." she quipped as she pulled her skirt on.

"Don't laugh," Mae said while scribbling some numbers on a note pad. "I've had to do that before. Sorta. I've done some very VERY unusual work. But no, I've got everything I need now. Of course, I get paid for doing what I do, and paid handsomely. This isn't going to be cheap."

She passed a number to Quill.

An eyebrow was raised.

"The other two outfits are free," the little tailor reminded Quill, her tail swishing from side to side in anticipation of a sale.

"What's this line item? Rubies?!"

"I have an idea. Trust me."

"After what you just put me through, I should marry you! Go ahead. But don't expect a tip!"

"What I just put you through was my tip, my dear. See you in a week!"

By the time the week was out, Quill-Weave had worked up something of a lather in anticipation. No arch-villain worth his salt could go without the appropriate outfit after all, and the one she and Mae had worked up was right up there with her own imagination.

At the sight of her, Mae smiled an enigmatic smile and led her down again.

"Oh, I think you'll like it. Come, try it on!"

A sparkle of red caught her eye. "What's this?"

"Just try it on. You'll see."

Quill looked around for a dressing room before she caught the disdainful eye of the tailor.

"Just exactly which part of you were you trying to hide from me?"

"Well..."

"Quill, if you're going to wear this, you need to BE this. The woman who wears this dress isn't going to be looking for a dressing room. She's going to look for a whip. Be that woman, or you'll never fit the dress."

Quill closed her eyes. When she reopened them, she smiled in a way that almost looked like a different person. She felt different. She had her old clothes off in an instant, kicking them aside as if kicking away her old life. Then she pulled the snug leather over herself. She needed a little help getting her tail in properly, but otherwise it fit like it was tailor-made for her, which of course it was.

The look on Mae's face told her all she needed to know, but she submitted to be led to a full-length mirror anyway.

"Now, put on these leggings," Mae said, handing her some very sheer, very stretchable cloth in a shocking purple color.

"Mae. This is really transparent. I told you, this wasn't for sex!"

"Darling, everything's for sex."

"But... it's very... breezy. I may not have nipples but I've got..."

"BE that woman Quill! The woman that wears this doesn't give a fuck about modesty. She wears her modesty in her attitude. If a breeze exposes her, she will wield such disdain for any who would dare to glance at her they would melt! You are untouchable. You are..."

"Evil Incarnate!" Quill finished for her and Mae smiled back.

"Yes, that's it. You are no longer Quill-Weave, you are Evil Incarnate. And Evil Incarnate doesn't wear frilly panties."

Quill took another look in the mirror, her eyes sinking to a sultry glare. The face that stared back at her was not that of the author whose livelihood came from telling of the exploits of others. This was the face of the person that Did Things. She bared her fangs and they shone in flickering underground light. When she looked back at Mae, the little Khajiit backed off reflexively.

"O... okay Quill. That's enough."

Quill stepped towards the tailor silently, menacingly until their breasts touched and her gleaming teeth reflected in the Khajiit's wide eyes, frightened eyes. An involuntary shiver ran through Mae that even Quill could see.

"I like the red skull," she whispered.

"Please, Quill. You're scaring me."

Quill turned around and took off the leggings.

"Sorry Mae," she laughed. "I had to try it out properly."

"Heh. Yeah. You're very good at roleplaying. This is for roleplaying, right?"

"Sure. Roleplaying. That's what it's for. Now, please help me get my tail out of this. Will I need someone to help me with it every time?"

"Oh no. Here, let me show you. If you just stick your tail in first like this, the rest is easy. Yes, like that. You've got it now."

"So, what about the skull?"

"Oh, I felt it needed a pop of color. Ruby red. I'll have you know I looked all over the city for these and no one had anything even close to matching. I ended up buying them from some strange guy outside the city. Weird guy. Would you believe, he wore a lit candle on his shoulder! But he had the perfect stones. I embedded them into the gloves, belt and these optional gauntlets too. And the skull just fit so perfectly, I didn't have to touch a thing! Crazy cheap too."

Quill spun back to face her again, her eyes flashing.

The Khajiit's eyes grew wide again. "I... I meant to tell you I was going to refund some. Here, you can have this back. I'm sorry Quill, but, well, you know how it is, right? Business is business!"

"Don't fuck with me Mae. You're the best at this work. You deserve your pay. But don't fuck me over or you'll regret it," Quill said with a menace to her voice that seemed to come of its own accord. Still, the thrill of that cowering look in the little tailor's eyes was intoxicating.

All the long ride back home, she kept the package on her lap protectively while it kept her warm over the miles, seeming to generate its own heat that went straight to her core. The look in the tailor's eyes kept coming back to her. For the first time in her life, Quill had seen real fear - fear of her - in someone else's eyes. She felt at once both ashamed and thrilled by it - the thrill seeming to reach deep into her core and to fill a space she barely knew existed. Something both primal, physical and essential.

She couldn't wait to get back home, lock the doors, shutter the windows and try it on again.