Being the exact opposite of a tank meant Ace had to keep his head on a constant swivel. While he'd scoff at any insinuation that he was fragile as glass, especially while riding on the high obtained from his newly reinforced frame, awareness of weak spots was a necessity when those same things were often responsible for his air superiority. Swift wings and flurrying attacks both required sacrifices in durability. Therefore as his target moved and the corner of an eye glimpsed the dangerous gleam of metal, jaws locked in a grimace of concentration. Timing of utmost importance, he twisted as the weapon neared impact.
Other than having to squint his eyes defensively against the light flashing across his face, no harm befell the living cyclone spiraling out of reach. He broadcast to comrades the close brush and daring escape from what could've been a critical blow, mind stewing in incorrigible smugness, and to the Warden he flung a derisive snort.
"Amateur! You think I haven't seen that move before?" Certainly assault using a glaive was a novel attempt compared to fire blasts and lightning strikes, but always one of the earliest plans of action against a flier was to separate him from his treasured airspace. "Keep flailing around. I'm sure that trash heap of a face will be a real winner once you knock your brains out."
"Survival's the name of the game, moron. Believe it or not, us cockroaches have the home advantage there! Don't need to scare anybody if certain Oil-spills are stupid enough to mop themselves up."
ATTEMPT: Be a showboat, er, plane and fancily dodge
DEFENSE: Armored underside and being a poison-covered pain in the ass
INJURIES: No, but give it some time
@The Warden
Missed the mark - that was okay, it had expected such a much to be well-within the Drone's expectations. It could tell from the exchanging of blows that he wasn't at least, an amateur. But he lacked the precision and practiced moves that had been hammered into the Warden by its life-giver, basically since hatching. It wasn't the best fighter the Forge had, but it was at least more trained then...this thing.
It didn't comment this time, only cracked a grin wider as the Drone coasted out of reach. Oh, if it thought that being out of reach of the physical glaive was out of reach of the Warden's abilities, it was quite wrong.
Oh, no, it did have to comment on the nonsense it was spouting now. "Home advantage? HOME ADVANTAGE? You are pests in the House of Chaos. You are insects that have crawled into an eons-long home of survival and creation. Your existence here is a pebble on the beach! We will be rid of all your nuisances soon!" It waited for when the Skyreaver was turning its course back towards the Warden, perhaps to come in for another strike, and instead of waiting, it twirled the glaive around in a rather flashy (heh) display, before thrusting powerfully forward, the flashes instead concentrated in a beam in an attempt to blind the flier.
ATTEMPT: you are out of reach? ok. light beam
DEFENSE: natural defenses
INJURIES: slash on the back
@Shrike
Oh, that'd rubbed ol' spikes-for-days the wrong way. Feeling a little too cheerful about discovering a point of Chaos-based pride to poke and very much chuffed by the compliment of being a pest, Ace ceased the controlled spin and angled back toward the landbound beast, jaws open in preparation for unleashing another rain of barbs. As he'd been turned away, a barrage against one particular sense hadn't been accounted for; vision flashed searing white, and retinas screamed as if they'd been lit ablaze. His head jerked back, halting whatever swooping assault he'd been planning next.
The pain invoked the beginnings of rage, yet never did it rise above a simmer. Remaining access to his other senses held back such passion and allowed more cunning thoughts room to flourish. Taking the ranged attack as an attempt at creating an opening through disabling an opponent, he decided to embrace the part of temporarily weakened foe.
"Ow," he whined, milking the blindness for all its worth. "If poking me in the eyes is the best you can do, that promise of yours is going to take a while. But damn, this hurts!"
A few exaggerated moans were thrown in for good measure. Additionally he shook his head, mane flopping from side to side, in vain retrieval of his lost sight. Meanwhile the appendages mounted on shoulders took advantage of the commotion to brush through venom-soaked hair and prime themselves for attack. Should hearing pick up vision's slack, he'd spear the Warden if it decided to bridge the gap between them. But let's be real: Ace is way too loud to pull that off.
"Pfft, history." Ace snorted, unable to resist a remark. "No way has twinkle-terror here lived enough to know what that is. Otherwise it'd know there's more beaches than this one out there. And the pebbles aren't being washed away as easily as it thinks."
ATTEMPT: Surprise spearing
DEFENSE: Armored underside and being a poison-coated pain in the ass
INJURIES: And there we have it! Blinded!
@The Warden
The Warden was not the smartest valkhound in the oilstone cabinet, but it had at least been trained for a number of cycles by a champion fighter and, while it may not have gotten to The Sentinel's level of combat ability, one of the things that it had definitely learned was strategy. Reading through opponent weaknesses, observing their behavior, figuring out if they were bluffing or not.
And Ace was definitely bluffing. The beam from the glaive was not a full spell and wouldn't fully disable the drone. Besides, wasn't it going on and on about how much better it was or something? And suddenly it was milking being some hurt little victim? Yeah, right. The Warden snorted, gripping the glaive and remembering the practice it'd done with it - the weapon was good to reach and that's exactly what it wanted here. To press the advantage it had opened without falling for the Drone's bluff.
It glanced to Shrike, still keeping itself aware of her questions. "Oh yes. Not us, but these caves were created by Chaos. Order is merely a group of pests that have washed in and taken root. Roots that will soon be pulled." And back to fighting - it lunged forward, holding the glaive closer to the base as it stabbed and slashed at its full reach towards the Drone. "As if you have lived any longer," it chuckled through its attacks. "A toy soldier made to raise knives against their betters. An attempt that failed, of course. And we will just keep winning."
ATTEMPT: flurry of stabs with the glaive
DEFENSE: natural defenses
INJURIES: slash on the back
@Shrike
"Pebbles or plants," Ace cackled and shook his head in mock disapproval. "Doesn't matter! Either way, soon we'll be too many for you and rest of your band of dirt-grubbers to push out."
Color was bleeding back into his vision, and blurry shapes began to emerge, slowly growing more defined by the second. This recovery, however, experienced a major setback once subjected to an assault his constantly running mouth had loudly covered the approach of. A metallic glint captured eyes before they were engulfed once again by light, and the first of a series of stabs punched into abdomen plates with a distinctive thunk that knocked the wind out of him. He reeled and staggered back in mid-air. Wings stretched to catch the breeze so he might take evasive maneuver before the rest struck true against him. Mostly feathers uselessly fluttered in the wind while rapid flashes kept the Drone utterly disabled.
Whether stubborn Mother-imbued willpower or plain stupidity, having the words bashed out of him by each successive blow didn't prevent the eventual spitting of more overconfidence. Even as his armor creaked beneath the strongest of the jabs, his grin remained defiant and cocksure. True, he was one soldier, but a toy? Other than his love for the game of war, far from it.
"Wow, that overcooked oil you've been thinking with must've really done a number on you. This was a warm up, a spar, as the good lady said. If this were an actual attempt, you wouldn't be seeing any knives, let alone talking about them. Can't see how the shittier half fights without slowing myself down."
ATTEMPT: Avoid most of the stabbing
DEFENSE: Armored underside and being a poison-coated pain in the ass
INJURIES: Blinded
@The Warden