Bard

Bards feel things strongly and get their energy from people, so a feeling rarely stays inside them for long. A good mark or a strange look from a teacher gets told within the hour, often as a voice note that runs longer than planned.

Saying it out loud is how a Bard finds out what they think. Halfway through the story they may stop and say “wait, I think I’m actually upset about this” to nobody in particular. Someone who feels things as strongly but recharges alone might write it in a diary and close the cover. A Bard needs a face, or at least a reply, and then a reply to the reply.

Bards cry, rant and laugh in front of people. Whoever is watching tends to take the size of the reaction as the size of the problem. A Bard who sobbed behind the science block at recess can be eating a sausage roll and joking by the end of lunch. The friend who passed the tissues is often still worried at dinner.

To a Bard, saying it was the point. Once the feeling has been out loud and someone has heard it, much of it is done. From the outside that can look like overreacting, then not caring.

The reverse catches people out too. A quiet Bard is easy to read as a calm one. Often they just haven’t found the right person to tell yet.

Bards want to feel close to people, and for them closeness happens out loud. A sunset is better once someone else has seen it, and bad news is lighter once it’s been told. They want the room to feel things with them. They start the speech at a birthday, or cry first at the end of the film so everyone else can.

They also keep a close watch on whether things are okay with the people they love. A reply with no emoji, from a friend who usually sends three, can sit with them all afternoon and get reread under the desk in maths, or under the table in a lecture. A warm one with a heart on it can carry them to Friday.

Bards are pulled two ways by the same people. Company gives them energy, and company is also where their feelings get stirred most. A party can be the best night of the month. Then the back seat on the way home goes quiet, and they replay every conversation, street by street.

Time alone gives them a break from other people’s moods. Too much of it, though, and their own feelings get louder with nobody to tell. So they may fill a weekend to dodge a flat one, then reach Sunday night wrung out. The right mix of company and quiet shifts from week to week, and they can misjudge it in both directions.