When it comes to the origin of Tyson’s character, the core of who he is as a person: He is a walking contradiction, and I love him.
Tyson is a verifiable - triple Ph.D by sixteen - Genius, but the most important thing you must remember about Tyson is that he is a fucking dumbass. For every mathematical theorem stashed in that supercomputer of a brain of his are a dozen circuitous ways to get him into trouble for reasons as convoluted as they are ill-founded.
His instinct to survive is (almost) as strong Sebastian Moran’s to kill, and yet Tyson is the limping walking embodiment of Icarus; a role he openly embraces with ‘calculates risks’ that avoid ever taking unnecessary risks.
If it will get him a second of the sun’s attention, our little Icarus will hurl himself off of cliffs - or, more accurately, rooftops - over and over again.His talent for picking himself up, though admirable, would be entirely unnecessary if Tyson didn’t keep putting himself in situations that knock him to the floor.
His greatest strength is his loyalty and his Achilles heel is his loyalty. Loyal to a glorious fault. It will be his downfall. Giving until he confusingly big heart has nothing left to give. Knowing that, and doing it anyway, because as ‘once bitten, twice shy’ as Tyson might be, he cannot stop himself from trying regardless.
He is a walking contradiction, and I love my hopelessly self-sacrificing, survivalist idiot of a genius.