I had forgotten that I had given Valen the Idiot Savant perk, which (I’ve read) is an outdated term for the Autistic Savant. And, tbqh, sounds kind of insensitive? That could just be me. It’s obviously a very old term.

There was a moment when I wanted to capitalize on this perk and adjust it to be better applied to Valen and his life story. The alternative would have to be Acquired Savant- a syndrome that’s developed after brain trauma/ brain damage. 

I want to write about this because it would involve a story about adversity, prejudice, and assault. It would also explain how music became more important in his life in the later years and why Valen is so devout to his brand of religious beliefs. These are things I’ve thought very deeply about but felt hesitant to explain because I typically keep a lot of Valen’s story to myself. Much of it is not pleasant.

I have another small drabble drafted atm, and I hope to get that edited and published soon so I can work on this chapter. 

One thing I hadn’t thoroughly plotted out for Valen is what route he had traveled from New Vegas to Boston. It’s very important because this trek produced many experiences and all of those he had with Hank. Strange encounters and new towns and villages he would have seen helped to shape who he is today and that’s so important. 

Also, it’s important to nail down this path so I can write more drabbles- that way I can talk about places he’s been or seen and not feel like I’m just pulling them out of nowhere and later forget what I wrote :D

MEME:   share five lyrics / songs / pieces of music that represent your muse.

Valentine Hart

[1] The Shoop Shoop Song - Betty Everett

[2] Summer Love - Trevor Something

[3] Down to the River to Pray - Alison Krauss

[4] Summer of ‘69 - Bryan Adams

[5]  Free Bird - Lynyrd Skynyrd

Bonus:

btw I haven’t written anything for soft sunday yet (because lbr Valen is soft 24/7), but when I do this will be the tag ♥

Desert Memories

It was a small square sepia photo that Valen kept tucked inside one of his journals. It had been a long time since he went digging for it to have a look, maybe too long. In the photograph where two young men leaned against a wooden fence in front of a building, a general store. The landscape behind them was dry and bright, their faces were slightly squinted from the sun. One of these men was Valen, dressed in slacks, a button shirt, suspenders, and a smile across his face. Beside him stood a slightly taller figure dressed in a long dark poncho and a gambler hat. This man looked grittier than his companion but managed to quirk a grin for a photograph. The two embraced with an arm draped over each other’s shoulder.

Felt like ages since Valen last spoke to Dickie, even though he’d known him for so many years there was a small fear in his heart that he’d forget his face. This photo was all he had left to remember him and to remember Hank- he was the one holding the camera box. Looking back at the photo, Valen might wonder why there was something uncanny about Dickie’s face- how it was more familiar but in a different way. He’d never really piece it together.

Heartsick for the old days, whenever Valen would look over that photo he’d consider writing a letter and have it sent back to the old desert. A letter telling an old friend that he had made it safely to the Atlantic and was doing well, maybe invite them to join him one day. There was another fear in Valen’s heart: if Dickie would decide to travel so far would he be met a fate similar to Hank? It was enough to scare him into never writing that letter and regretting never sending one, his few regrets in life.

Going to work on that memory meme I’ve had sitting in my drafts for ages (I’ve been procrastinating :3c ). But I think I’ll do one a day and post the actual memory in a regular post because i don’t want to cram it all into the actual ask...

to be continued!