Notes: I'm glad this chapter gets to some of what I've been building up to in Act Three. It'd be too spoiler-y to talk about anything in detail, but I hope that you enjoy reading this as much as I have writing it.


The Black Ravens had spent at least a few days preparing for the first London auction before Crow called Badger and Scraps to a side to talk to them about it properly. This happened one mild afternoon, when Badger had gotten back from his shift at the Weathered Duke's. Umid had already left to take over from him at the hotel, so for now it was just the three of them. They sat in the small living room, which was looking defiantly full of fancy furniture since Desmond had returned – the professor had been making a point, they were all sure.

"Right, so I doubt I need to say that we're well on the way to bein' ready for the auction," Crow began, "We've got a lotta good stock an' we've 'ad a few re'ersals as well. Now all we need are some customahs to take these wares off our 'ands."

Scraps nodded; "I've been thinking about that. At home we'd been doing this for so long that everyone knew who we were. Even at our lowest moments, we could probably draw a small crowd there. Whereas right now we're starting fresh, with no old faces to depend on. I've had a few ideas though. While we've been here I've gotten pretty buddy-buddy with a few of the antiques dealers. They'd probably put the word out if I asked them."

"That's great!" cheered Crow, looking glad that Scraps already had something prepared.

"...But would you perhaps be willing to accept a better suggestion?"

The three of them turned towards the door, where Desmond was watching them keenly. He had a habit of appearing when you least expected him, probably to serve as a reminder that nothing they did in this house could get past him. Badger felt the annoyance radiating from the other two, but fortunately Crow was well aware that he had to be careful when dealing with Desmond.

"Sure, go on," Crow prompted.

"Umid and I already talked about this to some extent," Desmond informed, as he walked into the living room, "Forgive me for not including you in those discussions, but I also notice that you haven't included him in this one." Here he paused for if Crow wanted to jump in to defend this choice, but when nothing came he carried on; "I feel that I have some understanding of the type of crowd you're going for and it certainly would be playing it safe to appeal to customers already in the market for antiques, as your friend suggested. But did you not say to me the morning after I arrived that you wanted to take risks and try something that London has never seen before?"

"I did say that," confirmed Crow. He wasn't accustomed to having his own words used against him, since he was usually the one doing that to other people, so Badger could tell that he was cautious right now.

"Then you'd be wise to listen to me," Desmond assured him, "I am well known in circles where you would have no sway, amongst people who would probably never come to know of your existence otherwise. They are the audience you could never have. But I could bring them to you."

"Why would we care about your nobby friends?" growled Scraps, before either of the other two could stop him.

"Your dogged hatred of the upper-classes is... admirable in it's way, but even you can't be as naïve as all that," Desmond chuckled, "They're the ones with the money. And surely that's why you do all this. To take back from the rich some of what you think society owes you. I can't imagine someone like yourself being involved in all of this for any other reason."

"Scraps is 'ere 'cause 'e's our friend," corrected Crow.

"But I'm not wrong, am I?" Desmond hummed, looking at Scraps.

"Tell us about your friends then," Scraps grumbled.

"Very well, I'm glad you see it my way. Though I wouldn't go as far as to call them that. You're not the only one who finds such people insufferable. However, putting on a face is important when dealing with useful people who you might not like. I doubt I need to tell the three of you that," replied Desmond. As was his way, he let that statement hang pointedly in the air before he carried on, "And such is the nature of the idle, the higher breed of people find themselves becoming bored all too often. They'll give any novelty a go once. Your job is to give them a reason to keep coming."

"So ya tell ya rich mates about us an' we give 'em a good time, is that wot ya sayin'?" Crow asked.

"That is exactly what I'm saying. Though, if I might make a bold suggestion, I feel that the evening would go smoother if they thought that I was at the reins. It'll still be your affair, of course," Desmond added, before Crow could object, "But your name means nothing to them, whereas they will come here for me. After that you can give them a reason to come here for the Black Raven."

There was a cold moment where Badger couldn't stop himself from trying to remember if they'd ever expressly mentioned the Black Raven to Desmond under that name. But even if they hadn't, there was a good chance he might have heard them talk about themselves as such around the house. Nothing escaped Desmond's notice. So Badger let this worry slide as the discussion continued.

"I'll be honest, I don't like the idea o' someone else controllin' the crowd," Crow admitted, "Maybe I'm vain, but I've always pulled the strings with our auctions." He neglected to mention that week where he surrendered the group to Marilyn, but even now Badger wasn't entirely sure exactly how much Crow had truly stayed out of that; "...Though at the same time, I know wot's best an' I can say for sure that ya know that sorta person bettah than I do. So fine, we'll dress this up as one o' ya dinnah parties an' once they're in the basement I'll win 'em ovah with the Black Raven's charms."

"That sounds like the best way to do this. I'm glad to see that you were agreeable, since Umid wasn't sure how you'd take such a suggestion," Desmond praised.

"I don't like it..." Scraps quietly muttered, but none of them paid him any mind right now.

"So when do ya wanna 'old this thing?" checked Crow.

"Give me a week," Desmond requested, "The rich don't like to be rushed. But I can assure you that for something as rare as me hosting an event, they will come."

"An' we'll be ready for 'em," Crow grimly concluded.


The week flew by faster than Badger expected. Which was for the best, given how long it had already taken them to get ready for the auction since they'd arrived in London. There was only so far they could get on the wages that Badger and Umid were making at the hotel (ignoring the decidedly unspecified amount that Badger had been putting into the bank), and Scraps had stopped pawning items to the antique sellers now that he knew they would soon have use for them. So this auction was exactly what they needed to make profit. Or at least, Badger hoped that they'd make profit. After all that they'd built London up to be they kind of needed to.

He tried not to worry too much about that, knowing that Crow wouldn't want him to, and instead focused on what they needed to do.

Nothing could prepare him for the night itself though, which was like nothing he'd ever seen before. Even the auctions they'd held at Barde Manor couldn't compare. Because as much as that place had been on the same level of fancy, those auctions had essentially been about cattle-prodding a large group of people to where they needed them to be. By contrast, tonight no one was being prodded at all. There weren't nearly as many people as Badger had expected, but the aura they gave off made each one feel wealthy and important. Even with such a small selection, tonight might be the auction they'd make the most money from so far.

However, Badger didn't see much of the people at all, since he'd been instructed to stay behind the scenes until the auction was ready. This had been another one of Desmond's ideas that Crow had reluctantly agreed to. For the look of the thing, only Umid and Becky were walking around with the guests, serving them drinks and snacks, while the rest of them stayed out of sight. Which for tonight meant Crow, Badger, Scraps, Roddy and also Max, who insisted on coming as soon as he knew Becky was involved. They all waited in one of the small storage rooms and occasionally peeked out.

"This ain't our auction at all. It's Sycamore's," Crow sighed.

"Just be glad he pulled this lot in," dismissed Roddy, "It's only for one night and then after that we'll be the ones in charge again."

"But will we, Rod?" Crow whined, "I get the impression that no mattah wot we do, Sycamore's gonna 'ave a say in it. Always promisin' that next time it'll be all us..."

"You don't know that yet. And even if he does, I hate to say it Crow, but... would that be all bad?" Roddy asked. There was an earnest look in his face that Badger didn't think he'd seen there all too often before.

Crow stared at him in wide-eyed indignity, but before he could respond Becky poked her head around the door.

"Professor Sycamore wants you all down in the basement now, he's going to lead them in soon," she hissed.

"Guess we've doin' wot 'e says," snapped Crow.

He threw his arms in the air as a show of defeat, then lead the others out of the room. They were quiet about it, not wanting to be noticed as they made their way down, but thankfully it seemed as if Becky had done a good job making sure that everyone stayed where they needed to be. As they went by the living room door, Badger risked a look in and saw Desmond there, talking pleasantly with some of the guests. Umid was with him and Desmond had his hand on his back, like a father introducing his son to his friends. But this wasn't something for Badger to judge (or even something he had any experience with, given that his own father was a world away from that sort of situation), so instead he hurried on after the others.

Once they were in the basement, they all put on their Black Raven robes. Even Max had been provided with one, so that he wouldn't look out of place. Then they took to their positions around the room as they'd practised many times leading up to that moment.

It was then that Badger looked at Crow and noticed that the leader was stood frozen, not wearing his mask, and staring up at the large stairway, where soon enough their guests would be descending down after them. Badger looked around at Scraps and Roddy, but it was impossible to see what they were making of this now that they were dressed fully in the Black Raven attire. So Badger decided it was up to him to talk to Crow.

"Yer ah'reet, Crowlo?" he called over.

"Mm...?" mumbled Crow, as if being broken out of a trance, "I'm... no, I'm not all right..."

"Then now's a bad time to not be, because we don't have too much longer before the toffs join us," Scraps reminded.

"...I can't do this," Crow whispered, so softly that if they hadn't all been listening out for it then they would have missed it, "This ain't my auction. This is not... what I wanted..."

"Can we deal with it tomorrow? It's too much of a bother to sort anything out now," Roddy reasoned, "We're already knee-deep in this, so just put on your Black Raven act, pretend that everything's fine and it probably will be."

"Nah, that's not okay," Badger heard himself say, "If Crow can't do it then there's gotteh be anotheh way."

"Then what's your suggestion? Keeping in mind that we have literally minutes to find an alternate!" demanded Scraps.

Badger looked at Crow, who was still looking up at the staircase, then he followed his gaze just in time to see Becky heading down towards them. Even her long and spindly limbs looked tiny on the grand walkway they'd turned the staircase into and she definitely seemed surprised to find Crow not fully dressed up yet. But seeing her was enough to spark an idea in Badger's head.

"We let Max do it," he stated.

"What!" Scraps and Roddy called in unison.

"Y-yeah," Badger explained, "We all saw on the day when we 'ad that practise run – 'e were realleh good at putting on an act up until it all went a bit... wrong. But this time we 'ave Beckeh to keep an eye on 'im, reet?"

"I don't know..." mumbled Becky.

"Please, Becky! I can do it!" Max begged, surprising them all with how sudden he was with his words, "I've been practising my whole life to perform to people. I'm a game show host and the whole world is my contestant."

This was the most transparent thing that Badger believed he'd ever heard Max say. There was no dressing up what he meant in funny words this time, just Max saying exactly what he wanted. And none of them could disagree that he'd be good for the role as long as he kept it together.

"If you want to then... then I suppose it's up to Crow," decided Becky.

Everyone looked towards Crow, who simply nodded in a resigned fashion. In that moment he looked as small as he truly was.

"I can't do it," he said, "An' maybe this ain't ideal, but I do think that Max can. I'm... sorry for lettin' all o' ya down, but somethin' about tonight just ain't right for me..."

"Then the presenter should sit this round out and let a new host take the stage," chimed Max, beginning to click into his game show mode.

"Yeah, I'm out," concluded Crow.

With that, he pushed past all of them and made his way back up the stairs. Badger went to rush after him, but Roddy firmly put a hand on his shoulder to keep him where he was.

"Let him, he needs time," Roddy said, "He knows that we've got a way to get through this now and we're gonna be okay. He wouldn't have left if he didn't know that. But sometimes you've gotta let Crow have these moments on his own."

"What a drama queen," huffed Scraps, "At least we already know that we can do auctions without him."

"Y-yeah..." Badger mumbled.

He didn't feel good about this at all. It wasn't long after Crow left before Desmond and Umid led the guests down into the basement. So he had little choice but to stay at his post and let the evening unfold. As distracted as he might have been, Badger did feel a small sense of pride at how impressed they all were by the basement. There'd been a lot of hard work gone into making it look like it did and if high class individuals like these approved of it then it could impress anyone. Even Desmond seemed glad to introduce them all to the improvements that had been made to Sharpace Rest, which was quite the contrast to how he'd felt about it when he'd first gotten here. Though the brief look of surprise that passed across his face did suggest that he'd mentally done a head count and realised they were one Black Raven short. He was good enough of an actor to disguise this again in the next moment though and none of the guests seemed to notice.

Once they were all seated, it was Desmond who took the stage. Badger was now glad that Crow wasn't around to see this.

"Thank you all for coming," he addressed the crowd, his voice was comfortingly warm, "I have not long been back in London after a lengthy absence, but upon arriving I couldn't stop myself from wondering what I could do for my esteemed friends and colleagues, who have been kind enough to support me in all of my research, wherever it may take me. So I thought to myself, what have these good people never done before? Dinner parties are nice enough, but I wanted to provide you with... an experience." He stopped there, long enough for Badger and Roddy's masked faces to exchange a glance across the room. Even without being able to see each other's expressions, they were clearly both thinking the same thing – this was Desmond's night, not theirs. And as if to confront their worries, Desmond carried on; "Now over the course of the evening I've introduced many of you to Umid here, an ambitious young boy, who I was lucky enough to meet during my travels. He too, is someone who has many great ideas. And I'm nothing if not someone who wants to incubate greatness when I find it, as you all have done for me in the past. So when he came to me with his bold idea for London, I knew right away that it was just what was needed to make tonight something rather special. I do hope that you will enjoy these auctions, as I can promise you that a lot of work has gone into them to make them perfect for you. Now, I'll take my leave of this stage and allow Umid's troupe to perform their show."

"He's making us sound like circus animals..." Scraps hissed, from next to Badger.

"No, 'e's making us sound like Umid's circus animals," Badger corrected, as they watched Desmond take a seat next to Umid in the front row.

To Umid's credit, he at least looked as surprised by this speech as they were. It would have been... convenient for Badger if Umid had planned this all along, because then he'd have a genuine reason to not like him, outside of his own jealousy at the situation between Umid and Crow. But Badger was reasonable to a fault and he knew that Desmond was the only guilty party here. Even so, no matter who was to blame, the seeds had been sown and now this small collection of London's upper-crust thought that the Black Ravens were under Umid's control.

As Max took to the stage, Badger glumly accepted that there wasn't even any Crow around to mediate the damage. They all just had to hope that Max would do a good enough job.

"Welcome, welcome, welcome..." Max began, each word growing quieter than the last. He moved the Black Raven's arms and head in an erratic motion, which cast a suitably unsettling feel across the room. Everyone leaned in close, even Badger did, before he could stop himself; "...I've travelled far to be here tonight, so very, very far... And on my travels I have come across the finest wares, that I have taken into my collection. There are riches in the forms of art that is rarely seen on the British Isles any more. Such a shame, such a sad, sad shame..."

"I hate to say it, but he's pretty good," mumbled Scraps, before he left Badger's side to go get the first item ready for auction.

"But the biggest shame is that I have no interest in these things," Max went on, jerking the Black Raven's arm up across his chest, "I collect them so that they may find the right people to keep them, but my only interest is in what glitters and shines. Gold, gold, gold... Can anyone provide me with gold?" He motioned the arms wide across the room now, "For the right price I may be willing to part with my collection, so that they may find better homes. So please, convince me that you are worthy of such art by presenting me with your shiny coins."

This could go either way, Badger knew. Either the audience would completely lap it up or they would reject the notion as being too weird. But it turned out that Desmond had been right about these people, as from the moment the first item was brought forward it was clear that they were under Max's spell. And they bid. They bid like nothing Badger had ever seen before, even from the richer auctions in Misthallery. His head was almost buzzing from how much money they spent on useless knick-knacks. Even the ones that were genuinely valuable weren't worth the price they paid. Though Badger supposed Crow would argue that true value comes from whatever the highest bidder believes it to be.

By the time the auction was over they'd made so much money that even Badger's skill at maths would take a while to figure it out. But the worst part was that it didn't even seem like that big of a deal to these people. Once the spell of the auction was broken, they went back to casually talking to Desmond about what a wonderful party it had been, how it would be a challenge to top it and only lightly enquiring about how to make payment and collect their goods (Desmond assured them that the Black Raven would accept cheques and notes just as fondly as he did shiny coins). It wasn't like back home, where the thrill of the auction lasted until long after the punters had wandered back onto the streets. To these people, this was merely another event in the evening's entertainment.

With this thought in mind, it truly dawned on Badger how far away from Misthallery they were...

Eventually, Desmond led his guests out of the basement, along with Umid, who gave them all a sheepishly apologetic look before following him. Badger had expected Becky to go too, since she was one of the hosts, but instead she stayed for the moment and pulled the mask off Max when the coast was clear.

"That was amazing!" she praised, drawing Max into a tight hug, "I've never seen anything like it!"

"Yeah, you were good, kid. And I don't compliment people often," agreed Scraps.

"Th-thanks..." murmured Max, flushed pink with embarrassment, "Your host will be here all week if you want autographs."

"Maybe longer than that, if Crow doesn't pick up his act," Roddy sighed.

In fact, they didn't see Crow again until much later on in the evening, once the guests had started dwindling away. Badger noted that it took posh people a long time to say goodbye to each other and even after many farewells were uttered, they'd suddenly remember to ask Desmond some other meaningless question that would take twenty minutes to talk the answer through. Honestly, if it was always this way then part of Badger could understand why Desmond had taken off to bury himself in research for so long. Anything would be better than dealing with so much chatter.

There were a few times when Umid would try to head towards the group to say sorry for the misunderstanding, but he was always soon called away again by Desmond. On the last time this happened Roddy gave him a pat on the back, told him it would be all right and that they'd deal with it another time. That seemed to be enough reassurance for Umid, who then stopped trying to make a break for them every few minutes.

It was probably a good thing he wasn't there when Crow rejoined them, as none of them knew how Crow would take any of this news.

"Wot 'appened then?" Crow checked, as he slunk down from upstairs, some of his swagger seeming to have returned to him, "Did it go well?"

"It were terrible, Crowlo," Badger burst out, "Nowt like the auction back 'ome. It were-"

"...Brilliant," Roddy corrected, "Absolutely brilliant. Nothing like Misthallery, no, but something we could never see there. Max did a fantastic job and the money we made... even once we split it up between the lot of us I bet that I could use it to pay a month's rent on a decent place for my family to stay. This was a good auction."

"Moneh isn't everything..." mumbled Badger, feeling that he needed to defend Crow's honour.

"No, but we came to London for something new and we got it," Scraps added, "Even if moody boss-man over here doesn't like it, I plan to go on doing auctions like that. I hate to compliment a snob, but that Sycamore had the right idea about this one."

"I see..." growled Crow.

"It weren't all that, Crow! We can talk about this...!" whimpered Badger.

"No, they're right. We did come 'ere to do somethin' biggah. I just... didn't think that it'd be like this..." Crow confessed, "Well, I'm gonna 'ead off to get started on the inventory. We'll 'ave a lotta work to do if we wanna keep this up an' I need to step up my game unless I want Max to replace me permanently."

Awkwardly, neither Roddy nor Scraps argued this point. Badger could feel angry tears starting to form in his eyes. Surely they couldn't think that Max could ever outdo Crow on the stage? It had been beginner's luck!

So with that, Crow headed into the room they'd kept the stock in, presumably to check their levels and see how much they'd need for next time. Soon enough he'd want to know the sales figures and Badger wasn't looking forward to telling him how good they were. Even if a selfish part of Badger's mind had been thinking about just how much money he'd be taking to the bank the next day. The rainy day he was saving up for suddenly might not be such bad weather after all...

"Yer couldeh lied a little bit," Badger scolded the two of them, once Crow was away in the other room.

"Why? He needs to know the truth," Roddy said, with a shrug.

"This is what he wanted," Scraps agreed, "It just so happens that the medicine tastes more bitter than he realised. But that's London for you – if he can't handle it then he knows where the train home is."

"But that's admitting defeat and Crow can't do that... We're 'is friend, we need t' be there fer 'im," argued Badger.

"And we will be. Our way is just different to yours," Roddy debated.

A moment of spite washed over Badger; "I suppose showing compassion fer Crow would be too much of a pain fer yer, would it, Roddeh? Not worth the bother?"

If Roddy was riled by this he didn't let on.

"You show him your compassion and I'll show him mine. All right, Badger?" he stated coolly.

To this, Badger had no comeback. He didn't deal well with confrontation at the best of times and any sort of bravery he might have in an argument came in short waves before retreating back to the shyness that was Badger. And every part of him was telling him to retreat right now. So that was exactly what he did. He shoved past the two of them and went into the room with Crow to metaphorically lick their leader's wounds.

And he hoped so very badly that for this one time he was right and the others were wrong.