A cop -- and a hobo. A hobo cop. Upsides: can be disheveled, doesn't have to wash, carries himself with lurched gusto. Hobocop doesn't need anyone or anything! No one can kick you out, because you don't *have* a home. Never pay rent again. Never again hear: "You're drunk! Why did you even come here, Harry? Go home. You're embarrassing yourself." Downsides: are there any? I mean, seriously, give me one.
Technically, you wouldn't be a cop any more, but a hobo. That would mean game over for the cop chapter of your adventures -- but who knows where the hobo part takes you? To the bar, the old l'assommoir, to the pier or the sewers? To Le Royaume, where for three hundred years they interred the dead? You could plunder royalist crypts for long-forgotten triple malt bourbon, then fight the armakhaan beast that lurks the bottom-most sepulchers... The secrets of the city are all yours, at last.
Requires 4h 20m research time
- -1 Composure: Ungainly and rambling
- Refer to yourself as homeless, while wondering where your home is (You can't pick this thought at the same time as Lonesome Long Way Home).