|Charles Renmont (shot_inthedark) wrote in zionmystiqueic,|
@ 2019-11-03 03:47:00
|Entry tags:||!november, !thread, charles, juliette|
Who: Charles Renmont & Open
When: November 3rd, Evening.
Where: Around Zion
What: Out for a stroll.
Status: Incomplete and Open
An earnestly quizzical expression flashed across the man's face as the 'cowboy' found himself staring out across the desert from where he stood near the edge of the tents. Truth be told Charles had no clue where he was now, beyond being with the carnival. Though to be fair he rarely knew where he was, or how he had gotten there. For most of his adult life Renmont had merely drifted through his days. Quite content to go with the flow, provided it flowed near money to pay for his necessities and creature comforts. Oh he could recall his performance; the exhilaration of riding around at a gallop astride his horse, sometimes even blindfolded and standing on the saddle as he fired his guns at the targets. Sure the Wild West Show was a bit cheesy in this modern age, yet during his more dangerous stunts...well that was when Charles felt most like himself. No skull splitting headaches. No fog of substances addling his brain. Just that feeling of being alive, and the rush that came with dancing with death.
Here and now though, a few hours after the show had come to an end, Charles found himself once more firmly entrenched in the fuzzy grip of his 'home remedy' mixture. Even as his slightly glazed over eyes drifted across the beautiful desert landscape the gentleman cowboy slowly took a swig from his flask. Downing the whiskey/laudanum cocktail, and wincing at the bitter taste that he never really got used to. As bitter as the liquid was, and as much as it made him sick from over use, Charles knew he'd be much worse off without that foul substance. Already the latest migraine was starting to rear it's ugly head, so before things got too bad Renmont decided to get a jump on his medicine. A few more gulps later had him feeling nice and numb, and so with a slight nod to himself he tucked the flask back into his coat pocket before turning his focus back to the carnival...trying to spot where the Mess Tent was setup, or at least where his own wagon was parked since he was a bit turned around presently.