Lovely Lady London. Tyson’s first love. Home.
Tyson loves London with all of his heart. He loves the architecture. He loves the beating heart throughout the city. He loves the underground and the twists of The Thames. He loves the landmarks and the personal landmarks. He loves parkcoring through the city and seeing paths that few others could experience.
There is nothing about London that Tyson doesn’t adore.
With his Synesthesia, Tyson has maps of London going back centuries memorised. He knows London like the back of his hand and could traverse it with his eyes closed, rain or shine. Every back alley and secret passage.
He could proselytise about London for hours. Never running out of trivia about its architecture or history. He loves how many layers there are to the city, literally and figuratively: giant skyscrapers to climb and underground catacombs, places like Borough Market beneath bridges, and the underground itself.
To Tyson, London is a giant concrete playground that he will never tire of exploring. Even walking through the same streets again and again, Tyson is enraptured. It never gets tiresome for him. A timeless ancient city, that’s always changing and adapting. New and modern.
He lives for the rare days, limping home bloody and bruised, that lovely Lady London will cut him a break. She is cold and uncaring, indifferent in her resplendence, but there are rare days when the gloom lifts and offers succour, quiet hidden places for Tyson to rest and lick his wounds.