Post by spot on Sept 10, 2019 15:41:51 GMT
"What kind of leader are you?"
Prince John is a tyrant through and through. If you need a leader who can win the loyalty of his subjects, carry them safely through war and famine alike, and keep his kingdom prosperous and happy...look somewhere else. But if you need a ruler who can squeeze every last drop of wealth out of his subjects ruthlessly, without missing a single person or piece of gold, unyieldingly; if you need someone who can similarly wring all of the benefits to be had from soldiers and underlings using blackmail, trickery, and staying one step ahead of rebellion; if you need a prince who can wrestle power into his own hands and keep it there by bribing and manipulating the darkest of soldiers into obeying and enforcing his every screamed order with ruthless rigidity, Prince John is your lion. He can turn a blind eye to the saddest and sorriest of pleas for mercy, making him dependable when it comes to gaining and keeping the most power in the Cursed Thorns’ corner.
"What skills do you have that sets you aside from others?"
Prince John has never been anything for fighting or bravery. But he knows how to use his cunning to his own advantage. He’s adept at figuring out an enemy’s weakness, usually in the form of who they love or care for most, and using it as leverage. He’s particularly good at trapping and ensnaring troublesome opponents without their suspicion. Most of his plans would work if his henchmen weren’t incompetent. Now that he works in the Cursed Thorns, he has a much wider variety of talents and cronies to bend to his will and heroes should beware his cunning. Just like he has ways of draining a land of all of its resources and wealth, he has ways of manipulating his forces into giving their all to serve his causes.
"How do they advise and strategize/how do they hold respect or make others listen?"
For those he is subordinate to, Prince John is normally able to hold his temper and purr and simper and weasel his way into good graces. Once he has the ear of those in power, he lets his cunning and plotting shine for itself. Usually schemes involving deception that are too clever not to try earn him at least the attention, if not the direct respect (hard to respect someone who doesn’t fit in his crown) of those above him.
For those subordinate to Prince John, he is much more unhinged. Once he has power, he becomes abusive and reveals himself to be a bully. Then it is with intimidation tactics like blackmailing, particularly finding and holding control of what subordinates love most, that Prince John makes others listen to his tyrannical orders. It is loud, uncouth, cruel, and unjust, but this type of leadership is ruthlessly effective.
[/div]Prince John is a tyrant through and through. If you need a leader who can win the loyalty of his subjects, carry them safely through war and famine alike, and keep his kingdom prosperous and happy...look somewhere else. But if you need a ruler who can squeeze every last drop of wealth out of his subjects ruthlessly, without missing a single person or piece of gold, unyieldingly; if you need someone who can similarly wring all of the benefits to be had from soldiers and underlings using blackmail, trickery, and staying one step ahead of rebellion; if you need a prince who can wrestle power into his own hands and keep it there by bribing and manipulating the darkest of soldiers into obeying and enforcing his every screamed order with ruthless rigidity, Prince John is your lion. He can turn a blind eye to the saddest and sorriest of pleas for mercy, making him dependable when it comes to gaining and keeping the most power in the Cursed Thorns’ corner.
"What skills do you have that sets you aside from others?"
Prince John has never been anything for fighting or bravery. But he knows how to use his cunning to his own advantage. He’s adept at figuring out an enemy’s weakness, usually in the form of who they love or care for most, and using it as leverage. He’s particularly good at trapping and ensnaring troublesome opponents without their suspicion. Most of his plans would work if his henchmen weren’t incompetent. Now that he works in the Cursed Thorns, he has a much wider variety of talents and cronies to bend to his will and heroes should beware his cunning. Just like he has ways of draining a land of all of its resources and wealth, he has ways of manipulating his forces into giving their all to serve his causes.
"How do they advise and strategize/how do they hold respect or make others listen?"
For those he is subordinate to, Prince John is normally able to hold his temper and purr and simper and weasel his way into good graces. Once he has the ear of those in power, he lets his cunning and plotting shine for itself. Usually schemes involving deception that are too clever not to try earn him at least the attention, if not the direct respect (hard to respect someone who doesn’t fit in his crown) of those above him.
For those subordinate to Prince John, he is much more unhinged. Once he has power, he becomes abusive and reveals himself to be a bully. Then it is with intimidation tactics like blackmailing, particularly finding and holding control of what subordinates love most, that Prince John makes others listen to his tyrannical orders. It is loud, uncouth, cruel, and unjust, but this type of leadership is ruthlessly effective.
Prompt Sample
Council Member
Maleficent has underestimated the enemy and may be making a mistake. How do you convince her of another tactic?
Maleficent has underestimated the enemy and may be making a mistake. How do you convince her of another tactic?
Prince John’s crown dipped low over his brow. It’s weight was a reminder of all he wanted, all he had been—powerful. The fact that it didn’t fit his head, that there was no mane to hold it up, that it’s shadow blocked his view...well. That was infuriating. Traitorous tiara. But for now, it was quite useful. The crown’s sliding hid Prince John’s beady eyes from Maleficent.
Yes, useful indeed. It gave the skinny lion time to fix his glower of rage. But she deserved it! An entire supply cart, filled to the brim with marvelous gold—and other, less signifiant things, like food and blankets and all that rot—stolen. Robbed! Gone, because this so-called Empress, this hapless horned, guileless green, fiddling fairy...
Two clenched paws and a lashing tail would have betrayed his fury, but the robes ill-fit the Phony King of England, too. His temper was hidden, like the lid slammed down on a teapot just beginning to steam and shriek.
Two trifling guards on their supply cart. He would have his way next time. Next time, an entire contingency would be armed! Next time, when a meddling mollycoddler thought to take their precious, beautiful stores, they would find themselves at the point of spears and fangs and—
His way. Hmm...yes...what would the heroes find, indeed?
When Prince John’s paws reappeared, they were elegantly arched, lifting his crown back onto his brow with delicacy. The feline eyes were lidded, lordly, contemplative—a trifle pompous, but not disrespectful. That was the ticket.
”My dear, elegant Empress,” purred John, jutting his lower jaw in a sly grin. He swept forward, picturing in his mind the regal way Mother had crossed courts. “A most unfortunate loss, to be sure. ‘Tis a shame we didn’t send more of our forces to guard the route. Ah—you did anticipate that would only incite more of theirs. Most wise. But of course, with your minions leading the charge, my lady... Perhaps they wouldn’t dare. The road less violent, doubtless. Unless...well.”
John stopped just near Maleficent’s throne, reaching up to twirl his whiskers cannily. “Unless the supply we were transporting should be prisoners. Along a well-wooded route—the kind where any number of our lot could be hidden along the way. And when the heroes come to rescue their poor, pitiful people...” He clapped both paws together so energetically that his crown plummeted to his snout. John’s wicked glee took no notice. He readjusted the stolen symbol, visions of ensnared enemies and fixed foxes danced in the flames of his eyes. “...The trap snaps shut, and our cart returns home with more than it left! Not only prisoners, but whatever the would-be rescuers happened to be carrying when they meet our ambush. Weapons, food...the odd gold piece. Envision it, your ladyship, and join me in a cruel chuckle—heh heh heh!”
Yes, useful indeed. It gave the skinny lion time to fix his glower of rage. But she deserved it! An entire supply cart, filled to the brim with marvelous gold—and other, less signifiant things, like food and blankets and all that rot—stolen. Robbed! Gone, because this so-called Empress, this hapless horned, guileless green, fiddling fairy...
Two clenched paws and a lashing tail would have betrayed his fury, but the robes ill-fit the Phony King of England, too. His temper was hidden, like the lid slammed down on a teapot just beginning to steam and shriek.
Two trifling guards on their supply cart. He would have his way next time. Next time, an entire contingency would be armed! Next time, when a meddling mollycoddler thought to take their precious, beautiful stores, they would find themselves at the point of spears and fangs and—
His way. Hmm...yes...what would the heroes find, indeed?
When Prince John’s paws reappeared, they were elegantly arched, lifting his crown back onto his brow with delicacy. The feline eyes were lidded, lordly, contemplative—a trifle pompous, but not disrespectful. That was the ticket.
”My dear, elegant Empress,” purred John, jutting his lower jaw in a sly grin. He swept forward, picturing in his mind the regal way Mother had crossed courts. “A most unfortunate loss, to be sure. ‘Tis a shame we didn’t send more of our forces to guard the route. Ah—you did anticipate that would only incite more of theirs. Most wise. But of course, with your minions leading the charge, my lady... Perhaps they wouldn’t dare. The road less violent, doubtless. Unless...well.”
John stopped just near Maleficent’s throne, reaching up to twirl his whiskers cannily. “Unless the supply we were transporting should be prisoners. Along a well-wooded route—the kind where any number of our lot could be hidden along the way. And when the heroes come to rescue their poor, pitiful people...” He clapped both paws together so energetically that his crown plummeted to his snout. John’s wicked glee took no notice. He readjusted the stolen symbol, visions of ensnared enemies and fixed foxes danced in the flames of his eyes. “...The trap snaps shut, and our cart returns home with more than it left! Not only prisoners, but whatever the would-be rescuers happened to be carrying when they meet our ambush. Weapons, food...the odd gold piece. Envision it, your ladyship, and join me in a cruel chuckle—heh heh heh!”
