Writing Beeman Scott, Dragon Hunter [M-L, mild V]

[Onix]

[COLOR=SlateGray][SIZE=1]At the turn of the century, one man set out to live the impossible dream. This man is...

[B][SIZE=2][CENTER]Beeman Scott, Dragon Hunter!
Chapter One: The British Frost, or, Forward[/CENTER][/SIZE][/B]

The doors to the office of Dr. Wilber Havishire of the Oxford Institute of Science swung open suddenly, and a headache walked in through them. That headache was a skinny young man wearing a bowler, a tweed suit, and a blistering grin. That headache was named Beeman Scott, and Wilber was already wishing for some seltzer. Or, preferably, a nice brandy. But this was not to be.

[B]"Dr. Havishire!"[/B] Beeman chirped pleasantly. [B]"I have made a breakthrough!"[/B]

Wilber raised one furry white caterpillar of an eyebrow and peered down his bifocals at the younger man. [B]"A breakthrough? What kind?"[/B]

[B]"I have discovered a dragon,"[/B] he announced proudly, putting his hands to his hips and thrusting his narrow chest out.

[B]"Have you, now?"

"Yes, sir. And I have dubbed it the British Frost."

"Frost?"[/B] Wilber nearly laughed. He might've, if he was the kind of man who laughed. But he wasn't. Instead, he wheezed. [B]"What kind of name for a dragon is that, Frost?"[/B]

[B]"It's really quite extraordinary,"[/B] Beeman chirped again, his eyes bulging slightly like they always did when he said that word. [B]"If you'll come into my laboratory, I'd love to show it to you. It's really quite gorgeous."[/B]

Not only did he raise an eyebrow, but Wilber's bushy moustache twitched. One might've thought he was beginning to smile. But he wasn't. It was how you could tell he was startled.

[B]"'It,' Mr. Scott?"

"Yes, sir. The dragon."[/B]

There was a pause, and Wilbur reached up to pat his bald head, perhaps to see if he'd sprouted hair again. Seemed about as likely as Beeman catching a dragon.

[B]"You...brought a dragon here? In your laboratory?"

"Yes, sir."

"Here. Now."

"Yes, sir."

"And you want me to...see it?"

"Yes, sir."[/B]

Sometimes, Wilber reflected, being polite was a less than valuable attribute.

[B]"Well, Scott. If you insist."[/B]

Wilber rose from his expensive, plushy chair with all the grace of a walrus and brushed of his wrinkled suit-coat that strained a bit ominously around his middle. Daft fool had probably brought in an over-large lizard, rather than a dragon. But, he might as well see. He gestured for Beeman to lead the way, which the younger man did with excruciating enthusiasm.

[B]"Good afternoon, Dr. Havishire,"[/B] droned Patricia Beaumont, Beeman's secretary. She had never been terribly fond of the elderly gent. Her dewy blue eyes brightened momentarily as she looked up at Beeman, and she tucked a stray lock of blonde hair behind her ear. [B]"And, g-good afternoon, Mr. Scott."[/B]

Beeman merely turned and smiled cheerfully, chirping a non-committal, [B]"Hello, Patricia."[/B]

Wilber sighed and rubbed his temples. Daft, daft fool.

[B]"Hello, Ms. Beaumont,"[/B] he droned back as he waddled into the laboratory.

His eyes widened momentarily as he looked upon a rather new addition to the room, in the form of a 20-foot long reptile. It turned its flat-nosed face at him, lips twisted into a look of utter boredom while glittered soot-black eyes glared down at him. It really was a pretty creature, he admitted to himself, with a deep forest-green color, save the more blue-green frills that framed its skull. Still, one was not to forget the five, glittering talons on each hand, nor the two blades that swished at the end of its tail. It flicked out a purplish-black tongue across its scaly mouth, which was surprisingly small.

[B]"That...that's a dragon,"[/B] Wilber stammered.

[B]"Yes, sir, that's what I said. The British Frost. Had a team bring it in from the North last night. Stunning girl, isn't she?"[/B]

Wilber shot him a dry look. [B]"Is it a she?"[/B]

[B]"No idea,"[/B] he admitted in his bright tone that made the sun seem sulky. [B]"But it's a beauty none-the-less, mmm? I'm thinking of calling her 'Charlene.'"[/B]

He wasn't just dim, Wilbur had decided. Beeman Scott was utterly out of his mind.

[B]"Still, it seems a bit daft calling it the British Frost, isn't it? Dragons breathe fire."

"No, not this one,"[/B] Beeman chuckled. [B]"Watch. Scarlet!"[/B]

Wilber briefly wondered if this was some kind of code word or if the boy had just gone mental here and now. But instead, a lovely young redhead strode around the side of the cage, clad in wonderfully-clingy khaki.

[B]"Yeh, boss?"[/B] she muttered, lips pursed in a half-scowl.

[B]"Mind showing Dr. Havishire why it's called the Frost?"[/B] he asked, with a mischievous smile that Wilber just hated to see.

The girl shared the look and walked over to a battered old cupboard. Inside, Wilber managed to see, was a long pole that she promptly pulled out. She walked back over to the dragon and prodded it in the side with the length of wood, prompting it to rear its head back, let out a loud screech of anger, and spray a cloud of mist from its mouth that turned the metal bars into icicles. Meanwhile, it swatted its tail around with more fervor, causing a terrible cacophony to fill the room. Wilber let out a sad little moan and clutched his hands to his ears.

[B]"Alright, alright, I understand,"[/B] he snapped. [B]"Now tell the girl to stop poking the brute!"[/B]

Beeman didn't get a chance to tell her, as it happens, because just after he opened his mouth, the dragon cleaved the pole into five neat pieces with a single swipe of its claws. Scarlet stepped back swiftly, obviously not keen to get into the same state as the pole, or the cage.

[B]"Well,"[/B] Wilber muttered sharply, re-straightening his tie. [B]"I can see that you have a lot of work ahead of you studying this beast, so I'll leave you be. Please give your findings to - "

"Mr. Delaney on the third floor, yes,"[/B] Beeman finished for him, nodding. [B]"Already done, of course. Young Mr. Brown was a great help in recording while Scarlet and I found out the details."[/B]

Wilber blinked.

[B]"Done? In one day?"

"Yes, sir,"[/B] Beeman chirped yet again. [B]"In fact, I have a proposition for you."[/B]

Wilber sighed inwardly. [B]"What is that, Scott?"

"Well, for the longest time, I've been hoping to get some...some field research, as it were. And I believe that, with my team here, we can get some real data. So, if you'd let me, I'd like to go out in the world, and find dragons. Of course, I'd pay for the inessentials and such, and send back regular reports of my findings."

"Field data?"[/B] Wilber repeated. [B]"With...real dragons? Are you bloody mad? Those things have been killing off people for centuries! You'd lose your head in a month!"[/B]

[B]"No one's doin' nuffink to the boss's head while I'm around, Havvy,"[/B] Scarlet drawled in her suddenly nerve-grating accent.

[B]"You're going to fight off dragons?"[/B] Wilber snorted.

[B]"There will be no need to do such a thing,"[/B] Beeman chuckled. [B]"I'm certain that they are just...terribly misunderstood. If you'd just let me go out and study..."[/B]

Wilber wanted to tell Beeman that dragons were about as misunderstood as a full grown lion, but the fool probably liked them, too.

He was about to give Beeman a scathing talking-down, but another voice rang out.

[B]"Ah, Wilber, here's where you're hiding!"[/B]

The old doctor turned and another man entered the room. If Wilber resembled a walrus (which he did), then his colleague, Phinneas Worthington, looked like a vulture (also true). He was tall and lanky like a scarecrow, but without any of the charm and all the scare. His sallow cheeks and hooked nose matched his beady gray eyes and long, gnarled fingers. Like Wilber, he was bald, but still had a smattering of black hair around the dome of his skull.

[B]"Good afternoon, Worthington,"[/B] Wilber sighed. [B]"What seems to be the business?"

"Oh, nothing as important as this,"[/B] he swept his arms wide, rather like wings. [B]"This beautiful creature. A dragon, right, Beeman?"[/B] he said, cracking a grin which looked terribly uncomfortable for his gaunt face.

[B]"Yes, sir. British Frost. Just brought it in last night, and the papers are already with Mr. Delaney. Thinking of calling her 'Charlene.' Or perhaps 'Beatrice.'"

"Good show, good show,"[/B] Phinneas chuckled. [B]"What was this I overheard about a trip, then?"

"Oh! I was talking to Dr. Havishire about a bit of an expedition to study dragons in the field. It seems like it would be a great opportunity for the institute to get some good data, don't you think, sir?"

"Wonderful opportunity, my lad!"[/B] Phinneas agreed. [B]"Let me just talk it over with Wilber a bit, alright?"

"Of course, sir."[/B]

Wilber scowled at Phinneas as he walked over, but the tall man just laughed and wagged his finger.

[B]"Wilber, Wilber, Wilber, who are we to deny such an opportunity?"[/B] he said, his grin looking a bit less falsely cheerful and a bit more hungry. [B]"This trip would be great for letting Beeman get out in the field."[/B] He leaned down swiftly and whispered in Wilber's ear. [B]"And out of our hair, mmm?"[/B]

Wilber suddenly smiled slightly.

[B]"Oh, yes, it would. And who are we to bar that? Why, no one!"[/B] Wilber spun on one well shined heel to face Beeman again. [B]"Well, Scott! You get your wish. You, your scribe, and your lady friend are to set out straight away! Send back reports as soon as you have something to write about, and we'll make sure to give you a good bit of traveler's fare every so often."[/B]

Beeman smiled like Christmas had come six months early. Scarlet merely scowled at the term "lady friend."

[B]"You won't regret this, sir! On my honor, I promise to be the perfect field man! You'll have 50...no...100 dragons by the time I'm through!"[/B]

Phinneas chuckled indulgently. [B]"Yes, Beeman, I'm certain we will."[/B]

The two elders exited quickly, both clearly pleased that they'd be rid of one Beeman Scott, perhaps permanently, if regretably so. Beeman Scott was also pleased that he'd get to finally see the creatures he'd love so much. Scarlet Murphy was still irate at being linked to Beeman in a possibly romantic sense, and Thelonius Brown was off cowering under his desk at the prospect of more of those terrible things.

And love-struck young secretary Patricia Beaumont just sighed wistfully and scribbled another 'Mrs. Patricia Scott' on her ledger.

[CENTER]*****[/CENTER]

[B]OOC:[/B] And thus begins the epic journey of Beeman Scott, a tale which shall traverse the globe and wrangle the most frightening and fascinating beasts ever known to humanity. I'm writing it for the Body and Soul 100 challenge, a challenge that requires you to write or draw 100 pieces about an original character you created. For it, I chose Mr. Beeman Scott and his two Squires, who are detailed briefly below:

[x]Name - Beeman Virilius Scott the 2nd
[x]Age - 27
[x]Hair - Mousy brown, and cut short all around. Usually covers it with a bowler or, more frequently, a pith helmet.
[x]Eye color - A surprisingly bright green.
[x]Height - 5' 6"
[x]Weight - I'm terrible with weights, so just know that he's a scrawny little guy.
[x]Species - Human (But a Dragon at Heart!!)
[x]A bit about their personality. - The first word one might use to describe Beeman is, well, to be blunt, eccentric, bordering on lunatic. He's a "deeply passionate" researcher in the field of Draconology, and seeks to study 100 breeds of Dragon across the globe, proving that they are majestic and misunderstood creatures (that can char-broil a heard of wildebeest and decimate a village in a day, mind). While not the bravest or heardiest man, he makes up for his shortcomings with pure spirit and drive, the drive required to be a mighty researcher. He will prove to his parents, to his friends, and to his superiors in the Oxford University, that he is a man who's name will go down in history!

His superiors, to be honest, only let him go on his little voyage because no one is terribly fond of him, he's slightly frightening to novices, and death by Yugoslavian Greatfang is more convinient than having him race around the office stopping people from getting real work done.

Then, of course, there are his "squires," sent along by Oxford to help him.

[x]Name - Scarlet Murphy
[x]Age - 22
[x]Hair - Unsurprisingly, red; wears it long and tied in a loose ponytail.
[x]Eye color - Like Beeman, a bright shade of green.
[x]Height - 5' 2"
[x]Weight - Don't ask her. Seriously.
[x]Species - Human
[x]A bit about their personality. - To use the word "firecracker" to describe Scarlet is a bit of an understatement. "Dynamite," even, doesn't do her justice. If she had been around 50 years or so in the future, she might've been dubbed a living "atomic bomb," but for the moment we'll just refer to her as the walking equivalent of a dragon with a headcold. She is perhaps the most unlady-like lady in all of Oxford and regularly gets into Pub brawls. She has never been knocked out in all her years, and she started fighting at 6. Anyone who crosses her path can expect a fierce right cross or a blistering string of profanity that would make a one-eyed seaman blush like a schoolgirl. With her looks, she could probably be a heartbreaker, but she settles for being a bone-breaker.

It's little wonder, then, that Oxford has assigned her to be one of Beeman's assistants on his little journey. If nothing else, she might be able to provide some protection from local thugs. Of course, she could probably scare off a dragon or two, as well.

[x]Name - Thelonius Brown
[x]Age - 19
[x]Hair - Black and scruffy.
[x]Eye color - A pale blue.
[x]Height - 5' 9"
[x]Weight - He's nearly as skinny as Beeman.
[x]Species - Human
[x]A bit about their personality. - The youngest and most inexperienced memeber of Beeman's "party," Thelonius is probably also the most sane of the trio. He is the one charged with recording the findings of the group and sending them back to Oxford for documentation. Fitting type, he's a fastidious and fairly cowardly young man, who would rather spend the journey hiding in the courage than staring an African Spinefang in the eye. It must be said though that, unlike Beeman, he's quite good with the ladies, often unwittingly so (whereas Beeman is completely hapless and usually uninterested in anything without scales).

Comments and criticisms fully welcome, and I hope you enjoy reading what I have to write.[/SIZE][/COLOR]