Tyr and Dove

It was past midnight by now, and Tyr was sitting on the brick-porch built into the front of his house, clutching a half-empty can of beer in his hand as he watched the plumes of smoke which still rose high above the cityscape. Pundits were claiming that it was only a matter of time now before martial law would be declared as the police were incapable of dealing with the widespread rioting, which was still showing no signs of stopping.

Course, little of this was noticed in the neighbourhood where Tyr lived; a street filled with old houses that had originally been built in the late 1940’s and early 1950’s to house lower-middle class families, with the head of the families usually being veterans from World War Two, or at least that was what Tyr had always thought.

It was a good house; the interior had been restored in the 30’s as society gathered itself up after the big crash of 29, and there were two storeys, Dove was up in the bedroom on the top-floor right now, and the neighbourhood was a good mix of middle-class people, Tyr had gotten it as a reward from a Mr. Johnson whom he had done a very big favour.

Dove was a hell of lot more shook-up by the President being murdered than he was, but then she’d been suckered in by the idea of a better and more tolerant society for all. As far as Tyr could see, there hadn’t been that much difference between Dunkelzahn and a few other candidates. It was good that Brackhaven didn’t get into office, who knew what drek that might have led to, but Tyr didn’t care much for the “historical significance” of Dunkelzahn being a dragon. He’d campaigned in his human form, so it was superficially a nice white man that 37% of the people had voted for, and the Republican candidate had been assassinated almost a month earlier, so it wasn’t even like he was the first victim.

Then there was the simple fact that Dunkelzahn was cosy with a bunch of megacorporatists, and while they might be Tyr’s recurring employers, he held them in no high regard. And like that wasn’t enough, there was the fact there wouldn’t even have been an election if not for the fact that the winner of the ’56 election had been proven to have manipulated the vote, and Tyr was having a hard time caring about the dragon’ ****.

Of course, Tyr couldn’t tell Dove that, or he’d be spending the night on the couch, and he’d deserve it too.

His brother had probably voted for Dunkelzahn too, with his own SIN and in his uniform, with a Dunkelzahn – Haeffner campaign pin next to his cluster of medals, and would be out getting drunk and mean by now, if he hadn’t changed too much in the couple of years that had gone by since Tyr had last seen him.

Finishing his beer, Tyr walked into the house and up the steep, narrow flight of stairs leading up to the second floor and on to the bedroom. He could see Dove in the dim illumination granted by the streetlights, though there was no insuring that they wouldn’t give up at any second now as the riots went on, and he knew that she hadn’t fallen asleep yet.

Getting out of his clothes, Tyr left his briefs on and crept into bed, getting up close to her and placing his right arm over her, not knowing whether she was simply in need of some cuddling before drifting off or even she wanted something more.