It's three days before Christmas, and Tommy's decided he's going to make a to-do list, because screw everyone else, he is self-sufficient. It doesn't matter if Clay takes his stuff! He will simply make more. Christmas is almost here, he's got pep in his step, and he's not going to let any enclavers in extremely green hoodies take that away from him. He's awake and ready when Clay comes by to escort him.
"Great. BYE."
It's surprisingly lonely, without Clay around. But that doesn't matter. He doesn't want Clay around. Not because he's scared or anything, just angry. Fuck Clay, and fuck Tampa. He doesn't need anyone else, he is a strong independent woman who don't need no man, and Clay's a weirdo who-
Right. Where was he. To-do list. He's got his notebook, at least, so he doesn't have to repurpose the back of his homework.
TO DO LIST:
- repair shirt
- make new mana storage
- *URGENT* MAKE NEW KNIFE
That's... About all, he reckons. He must look incredibly stupid, from everyone else's perspective, walking around with no mana and no knife, needing a senior to come save him like he's some sort of Disney princess. Not, like, Moana, though, Moana's a badass. One of the really old ones, from before feminism.
Eret grabs some scrap stuff and lets Tina know where they're going, and then they can make a knife. Or, more specifically, Tommy can make a knife (not very well), because he doesn't need Eret's help, except for how Eret is very much still the one handing him wood and metal and glue while watching out for mals.
(Eret lets Tommy pickpocket them for the mana storage. It was supposed to be a gift in the first place; if this is what makes Tommy feel better about taking it, that's fine with them.)
Two out of three items on the to-do list isn't bad. And true to his word, Clay isn't around for the rest of the day. Tommy's feeling pretty good about everything, honestly. Optimism and shit. He's got a knife, he's got a mana crystal, he's feeling good. Maybe later he can ask Clay if he can make more mana storage.
And Tommy puts his hand in Clay's and gives Clay all his mana.
It... doesn't hurt. Not on his body and not inside, either, like he's a fish being dragged along on a hook all up in his guts and he's trying to swim but just flopping around on a boat, the way it does when he says no and Clay takes it anyway. It sort of reminds him of when he used to do this with Wilbur.
He knows as soon as he does it that he's not going to be able to go back to fighting Clay every morning.
Maybe that's for the best.
Then after class they can make two more mana storage crystals for Tommy. They're much smaller than the ones he came in with, but Clay starts carving one in the shape of a dick and Tommy immediately catches on and starts cracking up and mirrors it in the one he's working on, and Clay pretends to jerk it off and has to watch Tommy struggle to keep a straight face and insist that it's an abstract art piece, really, and it's-- it's genuinely, honestly a good time.
He decides he'll let Tommy keep it if he gives up his mana without a fight on Christmas. And then night comes, and morning again.
"Hello."
Then Clay will take a container out of his backpack! It's reasonably sized, with holes drilled in the lid, and inside is some sawdust. He rubs his hands together while he speaks, and doesn't look Tommy in the eye. "I, uh, I don't really know what spiders like? And we don't have, like, leaves here or anything. But I thought it'd probably be better for them to at least have somewhere to be where they don't have to, like, worry about bigger mals and stuff? I made it pretty fancy, with, like, the sawdust and everything, but the basics were pretty easy. I dunno if there's, like, a reason you hadn't already made it and nobody else made it for you--oh, and another thing--" A chunky wooden cross, threaded onto a bit of string. "'Cause you're, like, religious and all that, I figured you probably just didn't bring one 'cause of the weight limit so I made you one."