There are times in one's life when you get an idea, partially due to inspiration. That is fine, but an important lesson is when spite has to get in on the equation it’s usually because whatever you have planned is a really, really, REALLY bad idea. (Often with an added dose of really.) Mibbet was, with Rosalind’s encouragement about to make such a move.

The idea started with an idle thought, then took her on an idle walk to a magic shop for a mana reinforced pestle, and mortar, and multiple decent strength magic stones. Then finally to the one sensible place on the list, the library. To ensure that her plan wouldn’t result in her blowing up, turning into a freaky glowy eyed mana monster, blowing up any (more) of the local scenery. Or getting any other unpleasant side effects commonly associated with the warning labels you get on the side of medicine bottles, that nobody ever bothers their arses to read.

That of course lead, where things often do, down a research rabbit hole, then to several hours of asking questions on the Ethereal network, (thank goodness Addy was the patient sort, as it wasn’t like Rosalind could get on there herself at the moment, too many tests required to prove you aren’t human. (Of course some clever humans figured these out so the tests were changed on a regular basis, and some humans were sufficiently coded that they could pass for a construct with ease, but Mibbet definitely was not one of them.) After a bit of research it turned out she wasn’t the first to try such things, in fact there were several clans where stone implantation was considered a rite of passage. But given that there were some clans with some rather unique, and extremely painful rites of passage that was hardly surprising. Some had even tried implanting stones that were directly taken from a variety of monsters. This was generally considered to be a bad idea. It had lead to a massive public information scheme, about little Timmy (presumably in his time off from getting stuck down wells, and rescued by a variety of intelligent animals that must have been world champions at charades, who probably sincerely wished by now, that the little git would either stay the hell away from wells, or get stuck down one they didn’t know about so they could get some bloody peace and quiet.) Who had the stones, and...... well like most cautionary tales, it didn’t end very well at all for him, it is probably for the best that we not subject you to the unfortunate details. (If your mutation into a horrendous flesh eating monster lasts over seven hours, consult your doctor, that is so long as you haven’t already eaten him. If you have, well, that’s unlucky. But just stay where you are and the hunters will be with you momentarily, we promise your treatment won’t hurt.... much.)

So now Mibbet knew how magic stones worked, how tattoos worked, how to draw magic circles (which coincidentally could draw mana from said magic stones, that could draw enough to refuel from a human being.) She also knew how to powder the stones into a variety of pretty colours, and that are supplies were horrendously expensive to acquire. (For some inexplicable reason, art supply stores seem to be convinced that artists poop out gold bricks, and nobody seems to be able to convince them otherwise. Particularly given that in a choice between pretty pens in a new colour, and food, a lot of art students will grumble as much as their stomachs are going to, convince themselves whatever food they could buy for their 2 coppers in change had some kind of nutritional value that wouldn’t lose out to a sheet of cardboard, then cough up the cash.) But there was still one piece of vital information, one that may have made her reconsider this plan, that nobody had mentioned to our amphibious heroine. She would of course soon wish they had, as she worked on painstakingly designing a water breathing magic circle, a strengthening circle, and, just in case, a water speaking spell. She was absolutely determined to regain at least a pale shadow of her former glory. Particularly given that in the foreseeable future she may encounter a reason to need to swim away in a hurry.

“I still think it needed more cool skulls” Rosalind grumbled to her, in her opinion anything could use more skulls, skulls were cool after all.

“Let me get this straight,” Mibbet grumbled, “I’m designing complex magic circles that will help hold together a spell lattice, to keep us alive through dealing with not one, oh nonono, that would be too easy, but TWO giant, potentially magically enhanced super predators, both of which share traits in common with creatures that eat frog by the by, and you want me to add in DEATH THEMES?” “Alright, alright, you’ve made your point, but this design is big, where are we even going to put it?”

“The back I’d say.”

“sounds like a plan, now let’s get this design finished, and head out, we need to find that shop again before dark.” This should probably be around the time that if Rosalind had a lick of common sense, would have realised the vital detail that Mibbet was missing. Unfortunately hoping for common sense from Rosalind is not something that is going to succeed. So instead of figuring out what was missing Rosalind kept adding stylistic improvements in order to disguise what the magic circle actually did, while still working hard to ensure it looked awesome.

Thus Mibbet finally arrived at the shop, clutching a sheet of paper, and her magic stone powder ready to be added to the mix, with no idea what she was letting herself in for. She was carefully guided to her seat, by a very polite young lady who resembled a canvas of randomised designs, who should probably not walk past any high powered magnets now, or in the future. She took a seat, and explained her plan, to the very enthusiastic young woman, who once reassured she wouldn’t get sued for this, was more than happy to help. Then Mibbet learned two new sounds, one was the sound of a tattoo machine, the other was the sound of regret.