Mental Workout
"Um, Caster, what exactly is the purpose of this? Wouldn't it be much easier for Master to learn if Rider taught him slowly?" Mash asked the dusky-skinned woman sitting next to her, who was enjoying a cool drink and reading a novel.
They were sitting in the surprisingly spacious gym that Chaldea housed, beside the sparring ring that had been set aside for the martial experts on the staff. The gym itself was well-stocked and well-furnished, numerous different machines and weight sets scattered around, with separate rooms off to the side for yoga, stationary bikes, and an indoor swimming pool. The vast majority of the equipment was untouched and unscuffed, making the entire thing seem rather lonely.
Trent and Medb stood opposite each other in the ring, a sheen of sweat coating the blond's bruised skin as he stood with a practice sword at the ready. Where the Canuck was clad in borrowed workout attire, the Servant was in her normal clothing, not a single mark on her nor hair out of place as she held her riding crop in a loose grip.
There was a flurry of movement as Medb let loose a quick swing with Trent trying to pull his head back, only to catch the head of her crop across his face.
Closing her book and setting it aside, the Caster let out a hum as she watched the blond try and thrust in, only to be driven back by a flurry of swats. "A slow and steady approach is the ideal way to learn as it ensures that no lessons or skills are overlooked, meaning that one has everything they need in order to avoid death." Nodding as she picked up her drink and took a sip from it, Scheherazade continued, "However, this has deeper reasons than simply Master needing to learn a new skill. He is trying to prove himself worthy of Rider's respect, while she is trying to see just how far she can push him."
"But, wouldn't it make more sense for her to teach him sword forms?" Mash inquired, her head tipping to the side as she watched the bout continue, her mouth pulled into a thin line.
The raven-haired woman's head dipped as Medb casually twisted Trent's blade out of the way and smacked him across the ribs. "Were his teacher a more reasonable Heroic Spirit and Master a less stubborn person, then that would make sense. However, neither of them will back down from this as it is, and it will continue until they reach the natural endpoint of their decisions."
The Demi-Servant stared blankly at the Caster, ignoring the sound of leather slapping against flesh as she murmured, "I… don't know what that means."
"They're going to keep this up until Master learns how to wield a sword or collapses," Scheherazade declared as she picked up her drink once more.
Mash's brow furrowed as she turned back to watch the ongoing match, her hands balling into fists. "Isn't that counterintuitive?"
"Probably," the Caster agreed with a nod, finishing her drink. "But it is not my place to question the methods of our Master. Not unless it is truly necessary, and in this situation-"
She was cut off by the sound of Trent letting out a grunt as Medb caught his chin with an upward slash, carrying him off his feet and sending him to the ground.
"-my interference is unnecessary."
The Queen of Connacht made a thoughtful sound as she stretched, putting on a show for her audience, though neither of them were particularly interested. Flicking her crop out of her hand, the implement disappearing into the aether as it tumbled towards the ground, the Rider declared, "Well, you're definitely no Fergus, let alone Cu, but I'm certain I'll be able to whip you into shape!"
"Gonna be real," her Master remarked from where he'd landed, having slowly shifted to a seated position. "Most people are talking about a metaphorical whip when they say that."
"Well aren't you lucky that you get to taste the actual lash of mine?" Medb asked in reply, a smug grin dominating her face as she put her hands on her waist.
Trent snorted as he unfolded himself and got to his feet, leaving his practice sword on the ground. "Sorry, but I'm not into that sort of play."
"Oh? So you enjoy being the one doing the whipping?" the pink-haired woman inquired, leaning forward as her grin took on a sly edge. "If that's the case, maybe if you impress me, I'll let you handle my crop for a bit."
"Tempting though that might be," the blond started, stretching his arms across his chest, subtly poking the bruises that littered the limbs. With a quick bend to scoop up his dropped weapon, he finished, "I know that I do not have the stamina to keep up with you in your preferred form of engagement. I'd rather not die for the sake of getting my dick wet."
Medb laughed, a delicate gloved hand coming up to rest in front of her mouth. "Oh, please, you act like that can't be worked on either. Do you think Fergus and I were simply born with our sexual stamina?"
Rather than answer, her Master just walked over to the seated group, his head shaking as he dropped down onto the bench next to Mash. As he went to reach for the water bottle that he'd prepared, he found it thrust into his hands by Scheherazade.
While Trent was swirling the liquid around his mouth, the youngest member of their group spoke up, "Master, I apologize for bothering you while you're exercising, but Doctor Roman asked me to find you. He said that he needed you to report so he could give you a medical examination."
"Oh ho, going for a physical with the good doctor, huh? He's cute enough, but he's kinda got some coward vibes going. Still, good job, Master!" Medb catcalled as she sauntered over to the group, her eyes sparkling.
After fixing her with a blank stare, the Canadian turned his gaze to the Demi-Servant. "It's perfectly alright, Mash, there are things that need to be done for the sake of keeping this organization afloat and operational."
"That's quite right!" Da Vinci loudly declared from behind them, stepping out of one of the siderooms, looking perfectly energized in her sportswear. Behind her, Olga trudged, looking bedraggled and covered in sweat from the workout, wearing much more conservative clothing. "Despite how well we subsisted for years with the number of employees we kept on hand, it was entirely due to our meticulous systems and bookkeeping rather than luck!"
"The systems of the Animusphere family are robust by necessity," grumbled the director as she slugged back a blast of water. "Chaldea was designed for the sake of safeguarding humanity and its future." Straightening slightly, she puffed herself up as her eyes fell upon Mash. "Speaking of humanity's future… Kyrielight, you were able to use your Noble Phantasm while we were in Fuyuki. Perhaps if you tell us its name, we can identify which Heroic Spirit you've bonded with."
The lavender-haired girl shrank slightly as she knit her fingers together, her expression downcast as she answered, "Ah, unfortunately, that didn't come to me. It felt... it felt incomplete, like I was only accessing a part of it. So…"
"And so, its true name remains a mystery," Trent remarked, earning nods from the two young ladies while the Heroic Spirits exchanged curious glances. Ignoring the byplay between the trio, he focused on the mismatched pair before him.
Mash was unsure, not used to interacting with the director properly, while somewhat strengthened by her trial by fire. Olga, on the other hand, was projecting a strong front, not just because she was face to face with someone who terrified her, but also because she was trying to adjust to her new body.
Rather than try and wheedle their interpersonal issues, the blond decided to focus on their actual topic. "But I think that it's fine if it takes some time for the Heroic Spirit to reveal everything to you, Mash. Everyone has their circumstances, and trust especially can be hard to give."
"What do you suggest then, Blackmore? We just leave the matter and wait?" Olga growled, her face twisting into what was an attempt at a fierce scowl, one hand coming up to point at his nose. "Have you forgotten our situation? We cannot afford to simply sit on our hands!"
"That wasn't what I was saying, Director. I was just noting that we can't really shake the spirit bonded to Mash down for answers," the sole Master of the group hedged, lifting his hands imploringly.
Da Vinci took in the entire tableau with a shrewd gaze as the trio discussed, her normally whimsical demeanour discarded in favour of studying this new dynamic. Blackmore wasn't supposed to be a Master, nor was he supposed to be in Chaldea, on top of having fewer records to his name than Team A's Peperoncino. His interactions with them seemed genuine, if hesitant, as if there was something keeping him putting his entire self out there. Even the two Servants he summoned initially were rather telling, given how the FATE System prioritized compatibility.
The brunette's gaze flitted to Scheherazade, the first Servant to have answered his call. A brave young lady who put her life on the line in order to save many others from the predations of a tyrant. A Caster, who specialized in bringing forth the characters and items from the tales she spun, and understood those who held positions of authority implicitly. A storyteller, who stood up for what she believed was right… and a deft manipulator, if the Renaissance Man was correct in her estimation. Scheherazade hadn't made any moves to try and string Chaldea along, but it was a factor that she would need to keep an eye on.
Shifting her eyes to the Queen of Connacht, the Universal Man couldn't help but narrow them. The pinkette was a straightforward and easily understood person, a licentious thing who thrived in her lusts and passions and always sought to place herself at the top of the pile. She had some cunning, and knew how to manipulate people with her looks. As a Servant, she was incredibly well-rounded, with abilities that would be of great use to their mission statement… as long as she could be trusted to stick to it. Medb seemed content to focus on molding her Master into what she considered a baseline for desirable, but if she decided that wasn't enough…
Leonardo swallowed a sigh as she turned back into the discussion in time to hear Trent's remark.
"Well, Mash, you said it yourself, didn't you? You want to protect everyone, all of Chaldea, and humanity beyond that. Use that as a basis."
The Demi-Servant let out a hum, her brow furrowing as she murmured, "Chaldeas, maybe? It doesn't feel quite right…"
"It needs to be dignified, a signifier that you bear the honour of representing this organization," Olga interjected, her arms crossed as she tapped one of her tiny feet. "Quite, a noble name, like Lord Chaldeas!"
Mash brightened up at that, a smile forming on her face as she balled her fists in determination, nodding excitedly as she agreed, "Yes, that sounds like a perfect name, Director!"
The Universal Man smiled at the interaction, glad to see the two finding some common ground.
"Well look at that, the two of you make a damn fine team," Trent declared, giving voice to Da Vinci's thoughts.
The pair froze, Mash's smile becoming slightly hopeful if hesitant, while Olga's face fluctuated between mortified and terrified. Despite the smile on her face, the Universal Man decided to dispel the awkwardness as she clapped her hands together.
"That certainly was fruitful, but we have places to be! Doctor Roman needs to give Blackmore a full battery of tests, and I need to make sure that both of these lovely girls," reaching out and pulling Mash and Olga into a hug, Da Vinci smiled at their surprised struggles, "are in tip-top shape after all of yesterday's excitement! They're works of art that need constant monitoring!"
The group slowly broke up after that, Medb wandering off in search of something to entertain herself with while Trent and Scheherazade headed for the Head Doctor's office, and Da Vinci ushered the children of Chaldea to her workshop.
Behind the pair, she shook her head ruefully. The entirety of human history rested on their shoulders, and she couldn't help but think that this unlikely motley crew they'd assembled might cause just as many problems as they solve.
