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Cheater
It seemed to Will that Nikola Tesla had, in one way or another, been cheating Death his entire life, but to call him a cheater — no, that he was not; deceptive, yes, particularly by omission, rarely by flat out lying, sly, oh most definitely, three steps ahead all too often, not to mention positively gleeful about how clever and inventive he was (just don’t ever mention Edison) , even disconcertingly selfless on occasion, for a very small number of people, but as long as you remembered that he actually meant the seemingly nonsensical things he said, a cheater he was not.
Dominant
The wonder of it was that ‘The Five’ as they called themselves had managed to do as much together as they had, thought Will, nearly all (he didn’t have enough information on Nigel to say, and the mere thought of extrapolating from Clara was painful, entirely aside from being less than useful) clearly such idiosyncratic and dominant personalities — not necessarily domineering, though there was little doubt each one could be, when they chose, when circumstances warranted — and yet firmly tied to each other; perhaps the wonder was that most of them had succeeded in making and maintaining connections beyond themselves.
Birthday
He’d been flipping almost idly through the calendar on Helen’s desk, waiting for her to finish her discussion with Declan about some delicate point of business (he’d heard ‘unexpected intricacy having to do with James’ estate’ and decided he did not want to know, thank you), noting that she kept scrupulous note of all her people’s birthdays (or namedays or other culturally or personally important marker-days, as well as significant dates Will had no context for); when he reached the nineteenth of November he felt an unexpected wrench of sorrow: he and James had shared a birthday, 120 years apart.
Razor
Will came upon the razor unexpectedly — old-fashioned, straight blade gleaming sharp, hinge and catch still oiled smooth, true-ivory handle inlaid with silver wire wound at collar and base, lying in a fitted case with strop and whetstone, beautiful and horrifying at once, sitting in a storeroom amidst a clutter of other anonymous objects; drawn, Will raised the glass lid, reaching for it; the grip small (too small for Druitt’s hand, and those wounds had all been the work of knives) and shivered: if the Ripper, Holmes and the Invisible Man were real, might not the Demon Barber also have been?
Wealth
Every once in a while, the sheer quantity of wealth Helen had would strike Will, startling him into seeing some new aspect of the astonishing world he had fallen headlong into; it wasn’t even the big things (after discovering that Helen owned a submarine, the planes and boats and even the wide net of influential and international connections were hardly a surprise), it was realizing that all the art was original, finding a bombe in the basement, paging through affectionately inscribed first editions lying about on end-tables — such a wealth of knowledge, understanding, love, and worth far more than money.