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Hey Terezi. If you're reading this then someone fucked up big time. Probably me, on account of how I'm either dead or hideously fucking maimed to the point that the contingency I coded into this figured I was a lost cause.
Incidentally, if the latter is the case you can tell Sollux from me to go gargle a pail since he was so goddamn adamant I couldn't pull that shit off.
But I digress. If you're reading this, you are the leader. It's you. I officially name you as my successor and I'm past the point where I can be argued with so everyone can pucker up and clamp their lips around the most succulent portion of my evacuation aperture.
Equius might try and give you shit about how, strictly, he should be leader given that he was running the shower of maniacs and airheads formerly known as the Blue Team. Don't stand for that. You probably know better than I do how to shut him down, so don't give that milk-swilling meathead a chance to get his blueblood privilege on. Order him to sit the fuck down and swear fealty. He'll gobble that shit up like it's a highblood's bulge.
Nepeta...fuck. Nepeta will probably be difficult to handle. That retarded crush of hers'll means she'll get all melodramatic and weepy over everyone, since Equius'll hardly be falling over himself to console her over some mutantblood like me.
(I'm assuming at this point that every creepy/morbid grubfucker curious about my blood will have gawped over my body by this point, so it'll be common knowledge to everyone except Tavros, the squeamish wiggler.)
She'll need some kind of project, something to divert her attention from the news. You know her strengths, you'll think of something.
Speaking of Tavros-- look after the bulgeless wonder, won't you? That sopor-panned dipshit's liable to get misty-eyed and useless once it penetrates through that ridiculous rack that we're actually playing in the big leagues now.
...Misty-eyed and more useless. Whatever. Just try not to let him sleep through the entire fucking game when he's supposed to actually be levelling or doing something other than having tea parties with the goddamn imps. Gamzee might help you out in that department, but then again he's an unreliable fuckstick stoner clown so don't put all your eggs in one conveyance receptacle. Just try and keep him out of trouble and don't let him wander off. He gets in weird moods when he starts suffering sopor withdrawal, I've seen it happen before. Keep a few pies ready in your Sylladex if you have to.
Vriska...man, just fuck that bitch, basically. Fuck her right in the auricular clothole. You know how to push her buttons better than I do, and she can't use her cheap fucking mind trick bullshit on you, so watch out. Don't underestimate her just because you got the better of her. I know you're not likely to, but if I can die then so can you.
Sollux has been my friendenemy longer than any of you assholes. Out of all of them, he's the one most likely to go throw one of his infamous pity parties over not being able to do anything for me. Nip that shit in the bud. Motivating Sollux won't be hard. You've got to keep him on the right side of angry for him to want to prove how superior those squishy mutant thinkpans of his are. Not so angry that he shuts you out. It took me a few sweeps knowing him to get it right, and I still fucked up half the time. But hey, you've got your weird intuitive Mind powers, so you'll make it work.
I tried not to talk to Feferi, if I could help it. I mean, she's been more or less on task for the majority of the game, except when she's gotten into her disgusting sloppy makeouts with Sollux. She just kinds of weirds me out. And I'm still fucking pissed at her letting her insane goddamn Horrorterror of a lusus fall on her goddamn Kernel. I mean, how fucking stupid can you get? But I never got the chance to chew her out properly since getting triple-teamed by Eridan, Sollux, and Equius never made it to the top of my Pointless Ways To Ensure My Horrible Dismemberment By Embarrassingly Obeisant Nookplungers.
But I mean, whatever, she'll probably derp along and drive you all half out of your pans with her revolting cheeriness. At least she won't actively try to cause you grief, unlike some spiderbitches who shall remain nameless.
I have tried. I have tried until I'm [redacted, asshole] in the face, but I cannot convince that smug hipster tool to stop killing his goddamn angels. I leave the task in your chalk-stained fronds, and I pray, I fucking pray, that you have better luck than I did. I just know that the last frog Kanaya will need will be somewhere in that miserable deathtrap of a Land he's made for himself, and some luckless fuckwit is going to have to venture in there and pick up the slimy little bastard. And the frog as well HA FUCKING HA
Kanaya's actually the troll you have to worry about the least. I mean, she's not out of her fucking gourd besides her hang-ups over this past alien SGRUB player or whatever. You know I've been working with her a lot on this whole frog thing. You might want to take over amphibian-wrangling duties now I'm gone. It's kind of a big deal. Probably bigger than Regisurp or any of your fucking wingnut plots you've got going on.
And Aradia. Jegus fuck, Aradia. If you can even keep track of the spooky tin-plated time-bitch, you're doing a better job than me. Only thing I hate more than time-travel bullshit is fuckers being all coy and smug over their timeline knowledge. I can't even tell if she's on our side, with half of the creepy-ass shit she comes out with. You might wanna compare notes with Equius on her, since he's the only one she even seems to give a fuck about since Vriska so thoroughly cleaned her clock. Then again, that would involve discussing the extent of his concupiscent activities, and if you're anything like me the idea of having that conversation with the sweaty grubfucker is only marginally preferable to amputating my own shame globes with a blunt sickle and ramming them up my respiratory sphincters.
Last off, like I said: if you're reading this, I'm past the point you can talk to me in person. So, sorry, I guess. Sorry for fucking up being a leader to the point that I got myself killed. Sorry I couldn't stick around and drag you clueless fuckwits through this game like I swore I would. And I'm sorry you never got to show me Prospit like you wanted. The way you described it, it probably wouldn't have sucked that bad.
Oh, and when we win, you assholes better make a big fucking statue of me owning the shit out of an ogre or something. In fact a statue is officially the least you can do. Personally with the amount of effort I've put into getting the eleven of you working as anything like a competent, coherent unit I think a galaxy would be the best restitution. But if I'm honest, without me you guys are going to have your work cut out finishing the game without turning on each other like a pack of rabid cholerbears, so I'll just set my sights low and brace myself for the bitter fucking disappointment that has become a such a regular staple of my nightly balanced diet alongside my recommended allowance of revulsion, dismay and frustration.
Don't let them fuck up, Terezi. Don't let them die like I did.
Karkat