I Expect You To Die

"So, that's your field report."

"Yup."
"You confronted the changeling enemy."
"Uh huh."
"They somehow broke your arm, whereupon adrenaline kicked in.."
"Yeah."
".. and you threw them over the edge with a broken wing, where they fell into the lava flow underneath you."
"Sounds correct." That part is absolutely a lie, but you can't let them know about Chrysalis.

"You need help with your drinking problem."
"IT'S NOT-"
You take a moment to steady yourself in front of the HR- wait, no, Sapient Resources, so it's SR, representative.
"It's not a drinking problem. I have a disability."
"What kind of disability requires you to drink large quantities of water with salt mixed in?"

You clear your throat.
"Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome, otherwise known as POTS, is a condition where prolonged standing, or change in posture, prone to standing primarily, causes my blood pressure to drop and my heart rate to spike. The reason this does not occur in creatures such as you or griffons, as a random example, is because of your quadropedal nature. You see me? I'm walking around on two feet. All my organs?"
You gesture to your chest.
"Waaaay up here. So thanks to my irregular blood pressure, my heart has to put a lot of work into pushing that blood up against gravity into my organs. This causes symptoms such as susceptibility to heat-related issues, chronic dehydration, fatigue, dizziness, nausea, vomiting, and occasionally fainting."

The stallion in front of you tilts his head. "And what does this have to do with your tendency to drink salt?"
You push up your glasses to pinch your nose. "In humans, a high diet of sodium - salt, increases blood pressure, and since it's an electrolyte, asissts with hydration, all of which treats my condition. There is no known cure for this, and since this affects my ability to work effectively with any job whatsoever, it is classified as a disability by human law."
The stallion slowly raises his eyebrow. "But you're not under the purview of human law. This country runs under equine law."

Why are boys always so idiotic, no matter the species?
"Yes, but this country doesn't even know what POTS is. No pony or other sort of creature has had to face this condition before. I'm informing you that humans have dealt with it."
The stallion sighs. "You do understand-"
"Yes, I understand that salt is considered a regulated recreational substance by equinity. I am aware that if anypony else had a swig of my electrolyte mix, they run the risk of sodium poisoning. I assure you, it's medically necessary."

The stallion - Paper Shuffle - snorts at the interruption. "Alright, if this truly is the case, I am going to need you to find a human doctor to corroborate it and have them sign these papers."

You take a stack of dry looking legal-medical jargon, and captchalogue it.
The guy looks around, confused. "Where did it go?"
"It's in my inventory."
He blinks at you. To prove your point, you pull the papers out of your inventory, and then put them back in.

He really doesn't know what to do about that.
"Is that all you need from me?"
"Well, besides the usual two topics of 'try not to shout at your fellow agents' and 'stop getting in unnecessary life or death situations'.."
"Unnecessary is objective there."
"You killed somepo- someone again!"
"An enemy combatant who was capable of perfect disguise and could've been gathering intel on us if I didn't. Besides, it was out in the ocean; legally, I'm kosher."

"Ko..sher..?" Paper tilts his head.
"Human religious word when it comes to eating certain food or something; I'm using it as a way to say that I'm fine. We're fine. Humans, historically, have killed more of each other, for less justifiable reasons."

He sighs. He knows you're not wrong.
There's a new stereotype out there, that Tirek somehow descended from humans, which explains his "violent conquering nature" so "half-ape" has become a blightful epithet against centaurs everywhere.

It's a bit fucked up and racist, but you know Equestrian history. They used to be so bad they wouldn't even interbreed with other kinds of pony.

Besides, humans really have no right to throw stones when it comes to "who is less racist".

"Alright. Please, just, avoid, killing, in the future? I can see why every other member of Sapient Resources refuses to deal with you."
"I can avoid crashing while driving in the snow, doesn't mean that sometimes it happens anyways."
"A horrifically apt metaphor! Thank you, please, get out of my office."
"Am I still employed?" You smugly ask, knowing the answer already.

"..Yes, you are. Our success rate has gone through the roof since we brought you on, just, please, try to make this easier for everyone involved?"
"No promises, but I'll try."
"Do, or do not, Miss Sangre! There is no try."

You close the door behind you and float your way out of HQ's campus.

You.. are going to punch George Lucas in the face. And then also Blank Page, for introducing Star Wars to ponies.

Wait. No. He's not in this universe. Dammit!

You instinctively reach for your flask, only to realize that there is a note in the pouch where you usually keep it.
"Myra, I'm taking personal action to help you with your drinking problem. I have the canteen, and you will get it back once I've washed all the salt out. -Bon Bon"

Mother FUCKER.
You best go find some water, you're already parched from that meeting.

<=

I watched Myra emerge from the Canterlot headquarters,
and walk down the street, with a fresh new cane -
one that looked sturdier, I suppose to beat me over the barrel with in the near future.
I followed her down the street, watching as she took twists and turns,
apparently having caught onto my tailing at some point.

I wasn't trying to hide, anyhow.
Eventually, she whipped around and confronted
me by blasting a gout of blood magic in my direction.

"Hey, mealworm." I smugly grinned.
"..Buggie..?" She tilted her head, in a disgustingly cute way.
"You know anypony else this good-- hey, hey, hey, stop that, stop that!! Put me down!!!!"
While I was making the mistake of being boastful at tricking her about tricking her,
she had grabbed the underside of my barrel, and lifted me up by my front legs,
my other two dangling in the air.

She was holding me like she would a cat.
Despicable. I wouldn't have been as upset by it if I didn't notice she was wavering back and forth.
I gave her the darkest glare I could.

"You tiny.. smol..! One apple tall." She whispered in delight of my alleged cuteness.
I wasn't even "tiny". I was disguised as a reformed changeling,
which had the average height of any Equestrian mare, but her strength allowed her to pick me up regardless.
Stupid half-human, half-whatever-else-she-was strength.

"You will put me down now, or I'm turning this into a war crime tribunal."
"Oh, I'll put you down alright." She said as she held me aloft with one arm,
and used her free hand to make.. a gesture.. of injecting (..?) something into her neck.
She dropped me, unceremoniously, into a puddle of muck.
I glared daggers at her. Perhaps even bullets.
I didn't have it in my mental budget for glaring missiles. Not yet.

I shook myself off and ran some magic through me to clean my chitin.
She stumbled back to relax against the wall opposite to me, and asked,
"So, what brings you to the City of the Sun?
Last I checked, your ugly mug was wanted by the crown."

She was breathing more heavily than usual.

I sneered at her. "My company has shore leave for the next few days,
before we ship out on another assignment. Guard work in the Griffon Empire,
they have an archaeology expedition and need the marepower
to fend off any creatures that might perceive the pathetic little scientists as a meal."

I tasted her emotions shoot up in excitement, then crash back down.
I hated when she tasted upset. She grabbed me by the neck,
aimed my head at hers, and stared into my soul with her horrifically keen eyes.

"You better not die on me out there."
"I refuse to allow wildlife to be my end." I returned fire with my own eyes.
"Good." She then let me go, feeling, somewhat better. "Shore leave, huh?
And your first thought was to come find me, even though if you get caught, you're a dead mare?"
"How nice to know that you truly care about me~!" I replied with saccharine smugness.

Ow!
She kicked my leg! I kicked hers back!

"Fucker!"
"Vermin!"

Before either of us knew it, we tumbled out into the streets,
wrestling each other. Ponies squealed and whinnied and nickered
at the sight of us fighting, only for us to crash into a fountain.
Even then, we still continued to lash at each oth-

"So are you just like racist against changelings or something, Sangre?" somepony casually asked Myra.
We both froze, and turned to face her. It was her coworker.. Lyre? Lyra.
She was sipping some kind of beverage, probably a disgusting milkshake,
and the Candyass was standing right next to her, shaking her head disapprovingly.
"Or is this your salt problem rearing its ugly head again?"
"It's not a goddamn--!"

I couldn't help it. I was rolling over laughing.
I eventually recollected myself, still giggling, while Myra looked at me grimly.
Served her right for kicking me!
"Junebug was ripping for a tussle, like the old days!"

Junebug? Aww, that was so sickeningly sweet, she already had a fake alias for me.
"You missed our little scraps and you know it!" I decided to allow this game of improv to begin.
"I did, Junie, but you can't just tackle me after I got off the job."

Oh, you little worm!
"I didn't tackle you! You tackled me-"
"You two know each other?!" Lyra interrupted me.
"Sure. She was actually the first creature I ever met in this universe." Myra shrugged, ironically telling the truth.
"Really? Where you from, Junebug?" Candyass asked me.
"Appleloosa." I decided to lie.

For some reason, Myra gave a horrific shudder and groan when I gave that answer.
"You alright?" Lyra asked on my behalf.
"Yeah, it just, that place is too damn hot. Can't stand it. Hot places make my condition worse."

I could feel her lying by telling a truth, but I decided not to press it since it would've blown my own cover.
"So, what were you two up to?" Lyra continued, "Besides property damage."
"Gonna see if we can't find a place to legally spar in the city.
I wouldn't have done the damage if somepony had a touch of patience!" Myra shot a look to me.

I was so going to get her for this.
"Ooh! Ooh! Can I watch?" Lyra excitedly asked.
Candyass rolled her eyes.

We shared a glance.
"Y'know what? Yes. Yes you can." Myra said with an enthusiastic grin.
"I'll do better than you, just you watch!" I declared.

On the way to the training fields, however,
I noticed that Myra had to constantly stop
to take a rest on every bench we passed by.
It was getting annoying.

"Where's your canteen?" I asked her impatiently. "You usually fare better with it."
"Sweets has it."

I looked over to the offending mare, who turned her nose up at me.
"I'm just helping my coworker with her drinking problem." Sweets declared proudly.
"Are you sure that's..?" I began to ask, but..
"Which one of us has been having to deal with her drinking salt on the job?" she challenged me.

I tilted my head innocently. "Oh? You're coworkers? Where do you work?"
She opened her mouth to speak, then huffed.
I could taste her annoyance with me, and it took great effort not to smile.

"We signed an NDA, so I can't tell you."
I shrugged. "Okay, but, I'm warning you, she tastes.. fuzzier than normal."

Lyra shrugged dispassionately. "Probably withdrawal symptoms."
I sneered at them when they weren't looking.
These were the ponies that my mealworm trusted her life with?

We continued to the fighting grounds proper, and began to spar.

=>

She's fighting differently.
Like duh. Obviously. This is Chrysalis, Mistress of Disguise we're talking about. But she's fighting differently, and it's throwing you off your rocker.

It really doesn't help that Sweets took away your fucking canteen. You dodge left, strike back with your cane, she swings the staff at you - you didn't even know she had that training.

The best you can do right now is to try and play it smart. Too much exertion, and THWACK, you take the staff to the face. You stumble, cuss, and magically gather the blood pooling under your eye and nose.
You cover the wound, and shape the rest into a makeshift spear. You block, force down the staff with the spear, and

Huh?

Wait.. you're on the ground.

Ka-thump-Ka-thumpKa-thump-Ka-thump.

Everything's..

<=

Before I had the chance to swing at Myra again, she collapsed.
Ha! She couldn't even handle me in disguise with one of my worse fighting styles, how could she...

I paused for a second, and then gingerly approached her. She tasted.. wrong.
"Mealworm?" I whispered.

"..Myra. Myra, this isn't funny. You lasted much longer than this in front of fucking lava. Get up."
Her eyes drifted to me, and I tasted a pang of hazy emotion fly towards me, then slowly
fizzle out. Her typically keen eyes were unfocused, dispassionate.
How long could she last without her salt?

Oh no. Nononononono. Not like this, Myra, please.
"Hey! You two! Something's wrong!"

Candyass and Lyra looked up from their chat, and galloped over.
"She isn't responding. She isn't moving! What's wrong?!"

"Hey.. you don't think.." Lyra hesitantly asked.
"No, it's not the POTS thing! She made that up!"

"Wait.. You don't think that her condition is real?!"
Candyass scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Of course not!!
She claims she needs the salt because her heart rate goes up if she doesn't.
Can you believe that? It's the most ridiculous thing I've-!"

"LOOK AT HER! DOES THAT LOOK LIKE FAKING IT TO YOU?!" I screamed,
gesturing to the prone catatonic human before us.
"You want proof?! Check her heart rate, right now!!"

Candyass was taken aback by my outburst and demands.
She began to confront me, but Lyra put an ear to Myra's chest,
and her expression turned to horror.
"Bonnie.. that's not a normal heartbeat."

=>

Shapes and noises. Haze. Something presses to your chest.
Then something else.

You feel yourself being moved. Your chest is burning.
You're so goddamn thirsty. Everything is starting to hurt.

Water. Oh, by the gods, nectar of life, the water. You greedily gulp at it, and the world begins to return.

You haven't had any water today at all, much less salt. Dumbass. You're dehydrated and you just got into not one, but two scuffles with Buggie.

Buggie!! Ah, fuck, she-

She's the one giving you the water. She has genuine worry written all over her face.
You finish drinking and lean back against the tree you find yourself under.

She's screaming at Sweets and Lyra. You try to focus on them, but the Haze is strong.
".. of course I don't, she's using it as an excuse..!"
"...tried to explain this and you didn't..!"
"...she has a problem!"
"Yeah! That problem is YOU!" Buggie screams and crushes the bottle in her magic while it's still in front of your face, causing the water to geyser out directly into your panting mouth and nose.

You eventually manage to clear your airway again, and you're a bit more able to focus.
What was it that Bon Bon said?

Your blood drips into the past.

Bon Bon scoffs and rolls her eyes. "Of course not!! She claims she needs the salt because her heart rate goes up if she doesn't. Can you believe that? It's the most ridiculous thing I've-!"

You look up at her. She looks back at you, expressionless.
"I have the greatest friends in the universe." You sarcastically growl, before getting up, and using your godtier powers to fly out of the field.

"Myra! Wait!!" Lyra shouts.

Whatever.

<=

I watched as Myra soared off into the distance,
and I snarled at Candyass, then flew off myself.
I could see she hadn't fully recovered from that fall,
and I was not about to let her be a moron and die by flying into something.

I think now, more than ever, I need to get her to listen to me.
And I'm good at getting creatures to obey.