Disclaimer: I don't own Fire Emblem Awakening, all rights to the owners.

Testing out some ideas for a potential new story (Merely Shepherds 2.0) down the line. Disconnected and probably unrelated segments. Quirkverse. Those of you who read The Robin Variable might be able to identify some of these quirks, but not all of them are things I've done.

"Geeze Metal, don't you ever sleep?"

"Metal? Is that what you've dubbed me?" Frederick asks as he stokes the fire once more. The flames reflects off the other man's usual plaything, a gold coin, as it flares up. "I'll thank you to keep your nicknames to others, thief."

"Ah, you hypocrite. Telling me to lay off the nicknames but giving me one? I see you there…" Gaius smirks as he flicks his coin in the air. He takes a few steps closer to the fire, casting some light across his face. His eyes are obscured by a visor of reflective glass, which bounce back the firelight shining into them.

"Nickname? I speak the truth." Frederick huffs. "Would you prefer a different moniker, demon?"

"No need to get snippy Metal." Gaius says in a low voice. He drops onto a log across the campfire from the knight. He doesn't stop flipping his coin. "I was just asking a question. Being polite. Aren't you all about that?"

"That was polite? I hate to consider what your definition of improper is." Frederik snorts.

"That's more true than you could ever believe." Gaius says with a smile. Even with his eyes obscured, the smile is obviously false. "But that's no fun to think about. I was just being curious. You don't seem to sleep, I want to know why. If you're so reluctant to explain, we can trade, make a deal…"

Frederick grimaces. "You think me a fool?"

"Stubborn? Yes. Foolish? Nope." Gaius says honestly.

"Yet you try and bait me into a deal anyways." The knight growls.

"Bait you? Pal, If I really wanted to force you into a deal I'd be a lot more subtle about it… and probably use blackmail." The man says. "Or I'd just get Lissa to make a deal with me, or Chrom, and then make a deal with you because you'd do anything to prevent them from suffering the consequences of a poorly thought-out deal."

Frederick's glower could not possibly get any more intense. Gaius smirks triumphantly.

"You know it's true. Those two are way too trusting. It wouldn't even be hard." The thief says. "So if I wanted to screw you with a deal, I'd be doing it some other way. Trust me."

"No."

It's hard to tell if Gaius rolls his eyes or not with the visor in the way, but he probably does. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised. Aren't Blue and Bubbles always harping on about cooperation and getting to know each other and whatnot though?"

"Cooperation, yes. Getting to know the other is encouraged, but optional." Frederick says firmly.

"Ouch. Way to stab at my heart Metal." Gaius sighs. He stands back up and dusts off his pants. "I guess I'm not welcome here then. I'll join some other campfire."

"Please do."

###

"Here you go Milord."

"Thank you Maribelle."

Chrom blows on his tea, debating if he should try to drink some. Deciding it's probably too hot, he only takes a small sip, just to not offend Maribelle.

"I appreciate your consideration, but it's really unnecessary. Tea is as much a ritual as it is for drinking." Maribelle murmurs. She drops some sugar into her drink and stirs it. "Unless you want to burn your mouth, I suggest you don't drink at the moment."

"Of course, of course." Chrom says, pretending he knew that the whole time.

"Milord, you're not fooling anyone, least of all me."

"Uh- right." Chrom says sheepishly. He momentarily glances away from the noblewoman's mirror-like eyes, then back. He always forgets she can read minds with eye contact. You think the Themisia's family's carefully guarded ritual granting that very specific power would be something he remembers, but no, Chrom always forgets she can do that.

"It's not that I 'can do that', I can't not read the mind of those who make eye-contact." Maribelle corrects calmly. "Really Milord, it is unbecoming of a prince to be so forgetful."

"Sorry…" Chrom sips his drink to cover the awkwardness, and grimaces at the heat. Still too hot. "So, erm… why did you want to talk to me?"

"Robin."

The prince nearly spits out his drink. "Ah, erm, has she done something wrong?"

"You know very well that's not what I mean, though I could list a few things." Maribelle sighs. "No, I am not talking about her actions. I'm talking about yours Milord. Mostly how much of a fool you've been making of yourself."

"A fool?" Chrom frowns. "Perhaps I've been a bit awkward, but a fool?"

"Yes." Maribelle says bluntly. "A fool. You allow her to make a fool of you by getting so easily flustered by every little flirt, and you alternatively avoid her like the plague or stick to her like glue. If you could kindly make up your mind if you intend to court her or not, everyone, and I mean everyone, would appreciate it."

"Everyone…?"

"Well, I think my dear Lissa finds your foolishness amusing, but otherwise yes… or were you asking if everyone knew? We all figured it out a while ago Milord." Maribelle replies dryly. "You're not subtle, and while Robin hides her true self well she is not so good that she never slips… though I'm fairly sure that's intentional when it does happen."

Chrom firmly looks away and doesn't comment. His gold eyes linger on the tea in his hands. The teacup actually matches his skin color well, both being platinum.

"I'm glad we had this talk." Maribelle smirks. She grabs a small plate and offers it to the man. "Biscuit?"

###

"Having trouble there?" Robin says with a smug grin.

"Shut it!" Sully growls as she struggles under the weight of the logs she's carrying. "You have no place to talk! You're not even using your arms!"

Robin shrugs. Her hair, purple and three meters long, holds up four logs (two on either side of her) like a pair of giant hands, and is otherwise flared out like a peacock's feathers behind her. It makes her appear much larger than she actually is, which is not very. She may have a few inches on Nowi, but that's not saying much. "Wasn't Vaike supposed to be helping out with this?"

"Yeah, but that dumbass went and burned himself out. Used his hyper-watsit boost to try and beat Chrom in sparring and ran flat out of energy."

"Hyper adrenaline rush." Robin says, remembering what Miriel called it. "Did he win?"

"No. Chrom wore him out over time. Weird moment of strategy for the guy actually. Just kept backing away in a circle, letting Vaike waste all of his strength hitting empty air."

Robin tries not to look too proud. She suggested that plan to Chrom for his next match with Vaike. Apparently it worked. "I'll have to congratulate him on actually using his brain."

Sully snorts. "I don't believe he actually came up with that on his own to be honest."

Robin smirks again. "You don't say?"

"Yeah, I- ah, it was totally you, wasn't it?"

"Maybe."

Sully shakes her head. "Shoulda figured… did you just tell him that, or dance him around in your own sparring session?"

"Both. I dragged him around in a match, then explained it when he didn't get the point I was trying to make." Robin chuckles. In truth, she can hardly claim that they spar at all. All their matches are hilariously one-sided in Robin's favor to the point it's not really a battle so much as Robin toying with Chrom until she decides to win. There's not even a semblance of a contest or fair fight when that happens. It's quite fun… for Robin at least.

"I haven't ever seen you two spar now that I think of it…"

Robin hums indifferently. "Yep."

"You don't intend to let me, do you?"

"Not really."

"What, is there some special thing you two do?"

"Maybe."

Sully huffs in annoyance. "Fine, keep your secrets."

"I will." Robin says, smirking.

###

The wind whips up into small gale, pulling leaves and small sticks up from the ground into a small ball at the source.

Ricken holds his hand up high, pulling in all the surrounding debris into an orb above his head. A green orb of wind magic, pulling in sticks, leaves, and whatever else is light enough to be pulled by the suction. He holds the spell for a long as he can, then points off into a direction where there is no one to be seen, and releases it.

The force of the spell release knocks him off his feet. A loud "boom!" sounds as all the condensed air and debris fires off like a cannon in the direction Ricken released it. It kicks up grass and dirt, knocks over small plants, and startles a number of birds and critters.

Ricken lies on his back for a few seconds, making sure he released enough mana and won't have to do this again tomorrow. Content that he let enough out, the boy sits up.

"That was quite big blast!" A male voice appraises. "Gregor is impressed! Is little magic man showing off?"

"I'm only little for now." Ricken grumbles. "And no, I'm not 'showing off'. I have to do that."

"Excuses if Gregor is doubtful."

"It's true!" Ricken protests. "You can asks the others, ask Miriel! I have a condition. My body generates more mana that it can safely contain, so I have to release some if I don't use enough naturally."

"Or else what? Little man will set self on fire?"

"No. I'll get violently ill… and then maybe set myself on fire."

"Sound quite annoying to Gregor. Little mage always have to do this?"

"Every few days." Ricken sighs.

"Always doing big dramatic wind blast?"

"Yes. If I do fire or lightning, people tend to come running thinking we're under attack." The boy grumbles.

"Not to sound rude, but Gregor glad happen to you, not him."

Ricken narrows his eyes. "Gee, thanks."

###

"Pardon me, but I must enquire… how do you see with that cloth over your eyes?" Miriel asks. "Are you using some sort of magic perhaps?"

"Nothing so fancy I'm afraid." The monk says with a polite smile. "Have you ever held a cloth so close to your face that you can see through the holes? That is all I'm doing."

"I see…" Miriel nods, and scribbles in a notebook. "And you do this to stop your gaze power, correct?"

"Indeed."

"So your ability relies relies on the other person making eye contact with yourself?"

"To an extent?" Libra frowns. "I'm afraid I've never tested… for obvious reasons I would hope."

"Quite." Miriel says, and pushes up her glasses. "However, if you would permit, I would like to study the specifics of your ability. It may help us in understanding the workings of other such abilities, gaze-related or otherwise."

"I do not mind…" Libra says slowly. "But are you sure you wish to subject yourself to such a thing? There is a reason I keep my eyes covered."

"There is little I will not do in pursuit of science." Miriel says firmly. "Please, indulge me."

"As you wish." The monk agrees. "What would you have me do?"

"Remove your blindfold, and I will test several sorts of obstructions to your gaze to see what stops the effect." She instructs, removing a few objects from her robe. She also removes her glasses.

Sighing, Libra does so. He politely holds his eyes shut until he's given the order to open them. When Miriel instructs him to do so, he opens reluctantly.

Miriel, who has nothing blocking his gaze at the moment (likely as a baseline to the test), doesn't recoil immediately. Her whole body tenses up, her face contorts into a grimace, and her hands tremble, but she doesn't flinch or flee like most people would. Her mental fortitude is too strong for that.

Still, she visibly sags in relief when he pulls his gaze away. "I see, that is much more powerful than I was expecting. Truly fascinating…"

"You can see why I keep my eyes covered."

"Quite. Next, please focus your gaze on another point. I will look at your eyes while you look elsewhere, and then we will reverse. This is to see if mutual eye contact is necessary, or if it is dependent on one of us or the other."

The results are that the effects are reduced, regardless of who looks away and who stares. Miriel then tests with her glasses on, which makes no difference. The scientist then dons a reflective pair of glasses ("sunglasses" she calls them) which actually reduces the effect somewhat. Him donning the sunglasses eliminates the effects entirely, likely because his eyes aren't visible.

Miriel tries a few other things, like holding up a bottle of water between the two of them so they look at each other through the distortion of the liquid, but nothing works quite as well as him wearing the sunglasses which, unfortunately, is not that different from him wearing his blindfold.

"However!" Miriel concludes. "This was quite productive! My thanks."

"You are welcome." Libra murmurs.

Just a few ideas lightly applied, mostly for my own benefit. Nonetheless I hope you enjoyed, or at least were intrigued.