Everybody knows the real problem isn't getting the cats to give up their secrets, it's catching them in the first place. You share some of your more esoteric knowledge with Lyme. He props one side of a basket up on a stick tied to a piece of string, baits it with a rubbery lump, and waits. He manages to trap a ginger tabby on his first try. His huge hands are so gentle with her that she starts following him around and telling you both all sorts of things.
There's a quality called Adrift on a Sea of Misery. "Step outside the lamp-light and London is an abyss of disease, poverty, despair..." Do something Magnanimous and sometimes it increases, with a message like "Nothing seems to have changed. But perhaps one day it will."
The ending of the Persuasive and Shadowy paths of the Mysterious Benefactor storyline.
The third option of the "reminisce about the Comtessa" card — "The Comtessa. It's what she wanted."
The first option of the "one of your minions has been captured by the Constables" card — "Send your lawyer after the chap. Provide sureties and whatnot. You owe these people, even though you wouldn't admit it to them."
Repaying the Soft-Hearted Widow as a Person of Some Importance by contributing to her charity.
You'll save who you can, but there's one who must come first. Together in the dark [...] Without someone you could trust absolutely, you'd never have made it through. You pass through the fungus-choked corridors, the pits where the Inhabiters walk, the broken gates. You ascend through the galleries of fossil and memory. You cling together in the dark. You breach the surface, at last, in an apple orchard just outside Shepton Mallet, through a Neolithic tomb of unlikely age. It's night, but the air is warm, and scented with summer.
Saving "whoever you can":
There are so many in need of help. Start with the closest, and the most helpless. The old, the young, the desperate [...] Weeks pass. The Observatory becomes a refuge. You arrange rationing, supplies, healing. You sleep when you can. Occasionally you make forays into the city to seek survivors, but it's horribly dangerous. You lose almost as many, to spiders and anarchists and human wolves, as you save. But your crowd of innocents and protectors grows day by day. Months pass. The Bazaar is long since extinguished. Candles are still useless, fire still sheds no light. Your people - they are your people, now - experiment with clicking like bats to navigate, with tricks of memory and insight, and with the variant spectrum of night: the colours called irrigo, cosmogone, violant, apocyan. Over time, strange lights bloom in the vaults. You hardly dare take those lights out into the darkened world, but in the refuge beneath the Observatory they permit you to read and write again, to memorialise your world in art, to recall what it is to be human. It is not a good life. But it is a life, and you have given it to them.
On the topic of Hallowmas destinies: In A Pricked Finger, you are given a number of options, all of which will grant you immense power; you can be a god or a conqueror. You can turn down all of this to free an old friend.
"He's frightened. He weeps in his briar-cage. He betrayed the Fingerkings for the sake of compassion, and he knows what awaits me. But I know him. Somehow. We met in a dream, before we lived in one." Mercy "He went weeping into the world. I see him there now. He'll work his passage on an explorer-steamship. (Or he already has.) He'll solve the riddle of the East of Everything. (Or he did, and he fled here.) He'll visit a stranger's house and offer him a hint of things to come, and the stranger will save him in turn. Or he saved him long ago." "Time. I used to think it was a wheel. The Fingerkings say it's a flame. Coolest at its heart. But wildest at its edges." "I'll see him again. It's his turn to be there when I need him most."
The Noman is this and Tear Jerker mixed into one emotionally-charged package. Though your time together is short, you can offer it happiness, raising it as if it is your own child.
A Newborn It is pale, and its eyes are shadowed pits. When first it clambers from the lacre, it is as barely-formed and inviting to the touch as snow new-fallen on the corner of a wall. But second by second, it looks more and more like you. When it looks up and smiles, its face is your own, albeit snow-coloured and fragile. "I'm me," it says in delight. "I'm me!" It reaches out to touch your face.
The "A Deviless' Serenade" card: Apparently the one deviless who isn't a master seducer has fallen in love with a rubbery man. Two ostracized groups finding love with each other, or the former intends to take the soul of the other. Still, the card reads it as rather sweet.