This is the opening to a new Doctor Who/Heroes crossover idea I have. I'm currently really unsure about whether it will work or not so I'm posting the first 500 words or so as a trial.
I'm not very familiar with Sylar's idiolect or story for that matter so constructive criticism is very much welcome. I don't want him to be OOC and despite the crossover of two very different sci-fi worlds, I don't want the story to be too AU either.
This passage sees the Doctor and Sylar meeting for the first time. I'm having a bash at a different style of writing, so please let me know if it works!
The sun glowed a fierce orange as it sunk, content and tired behind the black silhouette of New York's boxy horizon. Deep within the city where the fiery light daren't reach, fate met with destiny in a lonely alleyway. One was invisible, his hand pressed to the other's chest. He couldn't be seen, but his heart fluttered a steady beat. Duh duh duh duh. The other heard it and momentarily panicked as the past came to haunt him. But then he revealed himself and all was new. An adventure would begin.
"You're different."
The Doctor looked down at the fingertips pressed into his chest. They'd appeared from nowhere. He was caught breathless.
His eyes lingered momentarily on them before proceeding up a leather clad arm, up past a similarly clothed chest, to rest, unblinking, on an unfamiliar face. First impressions afforded him a tall, dark, handsome male. Much like himself. Glowering and dangerous.
Feigned ignorance alighted in his Bambi eyes – a reflex. His eyebrows knitted and gained ten years. He was now closer in appearance to his internal age. It was not much, but it was a disguise nonetheless. The Doctor looked at the man, now an older image, eyes blank canvases void of past tense, ready to be painted.
"Pardon?"
He chose to adopt a previous persona, something familiar, the postman with a fondness for banana milkshake. Florence has believed his thin story; it could perhaps be of use once more.
Choosing to ignore the Doctor's vapid front, the man spoke again. Curiosity gave his carefree tone a sing-song lilt.
"You're powerful; strong. Stronger than most. You're not on anybody's list. Who are you?"
The Doctor was prepared for the question, it greeted him more often than the people he met, and launched into his monologue, voice jolly.
"Sorry, I've no idea what or who you're talking about. I'm John, er, John Smith, English postie for the Flydale North area. Thought I deserved a holiday, well the wife did. She's always wanted to come to New York. I said I'd rather lie down on a beach for a week, what with all the walking around you have to do here. I'm still recovering from my bunions see. And er I'm not powerful or strong or… what was the other one? I'm just a humble postman. Although I did win an award for speedy delivery. But it's a small neighbourhood. Second proudest day of my life though! After getting married of course. Now that was a smashing day- Sorry, where are my manners, who are you?"
The man scowled. "You're lying."
"Am I?" the Doctor said, mouth open in mock astonishment. "I hadn't noticed."
"Tell me the truth, Doctor."
"Alright, you got me, I'm not a postman. I'm Doctor John Smith, brain surgeon and I'm a compulsive liar. Can't stop it. Nor the verbal diarrhoea. I have… problems. To do with a near fatal maladjustment of the frontal lobe of the left cortex of my brain. Car accident. Complicated stuff. You wouldn't understand."
"I understand better than you think Doctor. You're not a brain surgeon and you are nameless. You are also homeless. And you… you have travelling companions. But they don't quench your loneliness. They are just distractions. How does that feel? To be unloved? "
"Fascinating…" the Doctor chuckled with something near childish glee, "Now that's clever. I'm the best liar in the galaxy, again, I've won awards, and you just happen to know snippets from my past. Tell me Sylar, how do you do that?" His eyebrows twitched, playing tag with his fringe.
Sylar looked equally surprised. "You're a mind reader?" It wasn't really a question.
"Low level psychic ability, same thing."
"No it isn't." And with the intention to prove his adversary wrong, Sylar dived, head first, into the Doctor's waiting mind.
Is it silly? *concerned* Honest, justified opinions please!