2025-05-02 - Sharp Objects

It had been a hot minute since Diana Le Roux had found herself two drinks deep, throwing darts at Lucky's. But some nights just called for a bit of alcohol to properly disassociate from life's troubles. She'd worked earlier that day and hadn't bothered to stop home and wash the full glam glittery makeup off her face. The sparkles were accentuated by the golden glow of her skin and made odd-looking with her half-hazard messy bun, black leggings, and tight track jacket.

As she moved her arm to release her next shot, someone behind the bar fumbled, sending several glasses clattering to the ground and Diana's focus out the window. The dart soared through the air in the opposite direction of the dart board. Diana' let out a yelp when she realized she'd sent it toward the bar instead of the wall. "Watch out!"

Byron Fox, resident happy-go-lucky forensic scientist type, doesn't seem the sort to have any troubles to drink away. Well, not until tonight anyway, when he right about to settle in at the bar, just as a dart comes flying in his direction, followed by a warning. His eyes widen and he makes a quick grab for one of the serving trays left behind at the bar, which he now raises and uses as a shield to protect himself or anyone else that might be the target of a slightly drunken, slightly startled tossed dart point. "Careful there!" He calls out. Let's just hope he's able to block this shot or else it goes crashing into a bottle behind the bar as the bartender ducked down to clean up the mess that started this whole chain of events to begin with. Their fault.

The dart dinged off the trey, bounced off the bar top, then managed to stick into the wall behind the bar between bottles of Captain Morgan and Grey Goose. Di's cheeks flared red, not all that dissimilar to Rudolph's nose thanks to her handy little firefly situation. "I'm so sorry!" She said, one hand on each cheek to dim the glow as she approached the trey man. "Good reflexes."

Byron glances Diana's way, when he muses, "I wasn't sure if you wanted to add more fuel to chaos fire behind the bar already, because if you that's your plan. Good work then." He even claps for her, "Then my apologies for thwarting your devious scheme." He then lifts his chin to peer over the bar counter to catch a look at the bartender cleaning up down there and just gives the guy a thumbs up. They have absolutely no idea what almost happened back there.

"Thanks." He says to the compliment to his reflexes. "All of that martial arts training surely paid off then." He then gestures to the seat next to his, "Have a seat. Unless you wanted to try again, then I'll try my best not to stop you this time."

Byron's dressed casually in a white buttoned down shirt with short sleeves, tan slacks and a pair of casual Oxfords.

"Thank you. That was exactly my plan. I wasn't getting enough attention tonight and couldn't stand it," Di jokes as she picks the dart up off the bartop where it ultimately landed. Her brows furrow slightly. She'd bent it pretty badly. "Think they'll charge me for that?" She asks, holding it up for her almost victim to see.

Di glances down at the seat, then toward the wall, then sits. She'd had enough darts for one night. "Maybe in a bit. More fun with a partner anyway," she winks. "Can I get your next drink for almost sending you to the infirmary?"

At Diana's self-deprecating joke, Byron's brows furrow, giving her this look of disbelief. "If you can't get enough attention tonight," He turns to give the room just the briefest of look overs, "I over what the rest of the night will be like here. I guess we should all count ourselves lucky that not everyone is as bold as you are at expressing ourselves." And that's said with a hint of a smile to indicate that he's just joking as well now too. Peering over at the bent up dart, he offers a hand, "Let me try. No guarantees and I doubt it will be 100% even once it's straightened, so I would hate to be the person using this particular dart in competition."

"I can't turn down an offer of a drink. I'm just having a beer to start. Their seasonal special on tap." This is when he decides to do some sort of introduction, "Byron Fox, I investigate magical occurrences and study them. For the park. Shifted to that from Forensics at security, because it's been pretty slow going... even after the excitement of the past month or so." The earthquake etc.

"You're right. I literally glow," she says in regards to her inability to get attention. Plus, the glitter on her eyes and cheeks from her set as a morally grey Enchantress who is a surprise hit with the kids. "Well, don't count yourself out. A few more drinks and we can have you doing a full Coyote Ugly set on the bar," she teases. "I'm sure I'm not the only one who would love to see that."

Di places the dart in his hand and then signals to the bartender that they'd like to order once he's available again. "You can't make it any worse."

"Diana Le Roux. Illusionist and not nearly as interesting as a forensic scientist. Have you really seen a dead body? If you wanted to kill someone and not have it detected, how would you do it? Are you secretly a serial killer?" She smiles at the bartender. "Two of the seasonal beers, please."

Byron's been trying to secretly and quietly discern whether Diana's 'glow and glitter' was make-up or park magic, but he's been doing it as discretely as possible. However, he is caught off guard once Coyote Ugly is brought up. And not just any statement with the famous bar in it, but HIS doing a Coyote Ugly set on the bar. He then gives Diana an exaggerated good, long look. "You'd be the only person. And then Lucky's would go out of business soon after. And we wouldn't want that now would we?" That's followed by a smile.

He seems content when Diana gives him the dart to play with. That's when he reaches down to the backpack he left lying on the floor beside him to fish something out. "Le Roux. That's quite a fancy name." He then resettles back into his seat with a pair of pliers in hand, "Tools, never leave home without them." He then glances down at his backpack, "I usually carry a flashlight, my forensic kit with me wherever I go. You never know when there's a crime that needs evidence taken from immediately."

"And I would beg to differ. And illusionist is far more exciting than a forensic scientist. And yes, I've seen my fair share of dead bodies... And no, I won't tell you the trick of any good serial killer's trade." He says all of this as he uses said pliers to easily straighten out the dart. "And no comment to the last question. Here you go." The dart is then handed back.

Byron may be assessing her for a while because it's a healthy combination of park magic and makeup. "Aw, now you're just fishing for compliments. But you're right. We'll compromise and agree that you shouldn't be doing Coyote Ugly but Magic Mike," she grins. "They call it Lucky's for a reason, you know."

While Byron is fishing in his backpack, their beers arrive. "French," she tells him. It's also possible that Byron has heard about her family before if he's been in the magical arts outside of Spellbound. Her parents are well known illusionists who have one of the longest running shows in Las Vegas and have had success in various other entertainment circuits over the years. "Karate Kid and a boy scout," she notes with a nod.

Di's eyes narrow. "Hmmmmm...." is all she says about that last one as she accepts the dart back. "Sometimes not answering a question is more telling," she says. "So what's your body count? Are you like Dexter or Joe from You?"

This is when Byron realizes his mistake, "Wait... Let's go back to Coyote Ugly." But he just can't help laugh at it all either way.

"Ah, yes. French." He says in agreement when she tells him the origin of her name. While, he's not so much a magician's fanboy sort, he has heard of certain acts in Las Vegas, especially the popular big name stars. He's distracted, momentarily to be called a boy scout... which isn't wrong. "You've never been a cop before I take it. Always make sure you're prepared." It's then that he brings up, "Le Roux, like that act? Couldn't be a coincidence."

As for the rest, he just laughs and laughs as he takes a sip of his newly filled drink. "Mm. Thanks." That's first said to the bartender, before he raises his glass in Diana's direction, "And thank you too. For not sending me to the ER." He continues, "As I've not seen You yet, but I'd heard good things about it, I can say I'm pretty much like Dexter," There's a pause here, before he adds, "As in I'm a forensic scientist who very often will bring a box of donuts for the gang. Not because I'm trying to be liked or to seem normal, because I do love me some donuts. And I'm sure my colleagues do as well."

Di laughs and shakes her head. There was no going back, but she wouldn't continue torturing him.

"Like the act," she confirms. "My parents are the ones you're probably familiar with, but my family has been involved in performing arts for generations. Most of the family is just still back in France though," she explains.

Di lifts her drink to her lips and grins, catching him admitting that he's like Dexter. "Sure, just in the scientist way. Right. We'll go with that," she says skeptically, then breaks into another easy laugh. "I'd love if my colleagues brought me donuts."

"So it is your family who does those magical performance in Las Vegas and has been for years now." Byron looks impressed when he nods. "Now that is cool. What's it like growing up magical?" He goes on, "Knowing all of the tricks of the trade as well as having your family in the spotlight like that." Taking another sip from his glass, he asks, "Why'd you choose to perform here instead of with your family?"

When she says that she'd love if her colleagues brought her donuts, Byron's brows lift and he just grins, "Have you ever bought them donuts yet? That's how this gets started."

Diana presses her lips together and nods. "Yup," she confirms. She fiddles with the dart in her hand, pressing the tip into her thumb hard enough to make an indent but not hard enough to break the skin. "You're going to have to get a few more of these in me if you want to talk about all that..." She tells him bluntly. "Just.... we're illusionists, Mr. Fox. Don't believe everything you see."

She shakes her head no. "Not to work, but I do cook a lot for my neighbors and friends... too much, probably. I'm sure they're sick of me calling them asking them to help me eat everything I made."

Byron just watches as Diana toys with that dart, looking from dart, then back up to Diana's eyes once again. When she tells him what he'd need to do to get her to open up about her childhood and family life, there's a look of confusion on his face when he asks, "I hope you're meaning drinks and not darts, but hey, I'm not the type to knock it until I try it so..." Still, his brows are furrowed.

There's a slow nod that follows, "Right, don't believe everything you see. Or hear... apparently." This is said with a good-natured grin at the very least.

He then has to blink when she brings up her cooking. "And they don't return the favor? That's un-neighborly of them." After taking another sip from his glass, he then casually states, "But! If you ever need help disposing of good food, hey, my fridge is always open."

Diana feels her cheeks flush. "My, my, and here I thought you were a good cop," she chuckles. "I was talking about the drinks." She puts the dart down on the bar top.

Di shakes her head, no. "Not usually, but I enjoy it. It isn't really a transactional thing. It's just something I enjoy doing and would do with or without guests... it's just more fun with, " she explains. She glances over at the cop and smiles. "Careful, you'll end up with more than you bargained for and it's all up to my whims... but it tends to be a lot of French food... not always, but usually. My grandmother was the best cook and I stole most of it from her."

One corner of Byron's lip tugs into a smirk when she brings up the whole good cop thing. He knew she was talking about the drinks, most likely....

He then goes to say, "I mean, I'm not a great cook myself, so anything I'd bring over would be restaurant or store bought." Yes, there's a slightly sheepish expression when he says this, "On the occasion that I do decide to actually make something, well..." Both brows shoot up as he holds his glass in hand, "Let's hope it turned out edible." He'll laugh about it, still. "Hmm, French Food. Now /that/ sounds fancy." Taking a slow drink, he then says, "Well, if you find yourself in excess of French cuisine or any type of cuisine," He then reaches for his wallet to take out his business card to pass along, "You have my number." He then pauses, "No prank calls though. We, at the Magical Studies Lab, take our jobs very seriously." And he gives Diana this stern look to make his point.

"I believe you're misinformed. French food can be as shabby as any other," she tells him, taking his business card and sliding it into the pocket attached to the back of her phone. "I can't make that promise. Now that I know that the law is a cute guy bringing people doughnuts, I have more incentive to cause trouble." She says as she flags the bartender to close out her tab, which only takes a moment.

"It was nice to meet you, Byron."