Original Appearance

Dare to lift your eyes to the ceiling and let the last sight before you perish be that of pale death itself, dripping red and carried on swift wings. Although the sky is an impossibility here, mere overhead space the closest substitute for its shifting hues and drifting clouds, the Skyreaver makes do with what he is given and navigates it with the same finesse he would his true domain. Exactly as Mother intended.

A creation meant to be devastating as well as nimble in the air, the draconic silhouette this Drone possesses ought to be no surprise. However, it is the features that are not recognizable as such that determine where exactly his strengths lie. Far from a battering ram of bulging muscle and steel-like scales, he instead appears slim to the point of starvation. Not the most encouraging or healthy of looks, it’s understandable if any threat posed by him might come across as rather minuscule compared to his brawnier compatriots. That is where one would commit their first mistake: contrary to initial assumptions, the physique presented provides much benefit in the form of explosive speed and agility which can put the most acrobatic of birds to shame.

In turn, those natural talents allow him to strike with an unrelenting precision, fully utilizing the weapons he’s been gifted. These have been inspired by arthropods, primarily the mantis and scorpion, their influence very much evident due to their shape and destructive purpose. Forelegs are spiked on their underside and end in a hook. A stinger sprouts out of the tuft of crimson bristles where his tail ends.

The venom which the Skyreaver carries is not restricted solely to this stinger. His whole being exudes the same dangerous concoction. Pores all over his hide produce the red fluid on the regular and saturate the shaggy mane which stretches down the entire length of his spine. The many effects that can be caused are an absolute menace in itself: hallucinations, necrosis, dizziness, and eventual paralysis if enough manages to be ingested.

When he speaks, an unfortunately common occurrence and not a blessed occasion, the voice leaving powerful fanged jaws is a booming and strident one. It makes no efforts to disguise his thoughts, broadcasting them wide and far to all in earshot. Often they are crass as they sound, challenges and boasts to those who dare to think Chaos has a chance of measuring up to the perfect crystalline accomplishments of Order.

As every other Drone, soldier or otherwise, his life is proudly bound to Clearstone. This one is nestled in a spot between shoulder blades in a flawless diamond shape. A possible vulnerability, he guards it with all manner of twisting aerial maneuvers, doing his best to remain overhead, beside, and never underneath.

Order's perfection should leave no room for further improvement; Mother's design is flawless and absolute. Nevertheless, the power of Wish Magic has somehow managed to push boundaries and Ace's menace to even greater heights. Woe be to any who are unfortunate to face him in this even deadlier state.

Shoring up vulnerabilities, a body half-starved in appearance has been whipped into more formidable shape. Keratin plates armor its underside, starting from the Drone's chest and ending at his still present stinger. These offer further protection from ranged attacks—for example, zaps from a particularly bloodlusted sword. Meanwhile the aforementioned chest has become broadened to accommodate larger muscles in order to wield a brand new set of weaponry in addition to his hooked forearms.

Appendages similar in form and function to that of a mantis shrimp rest on shoulders, prepared to inflict devastating strikes when swooping toward enemy combatants. These can deliver even worse pain when combined with another tool at his disposal. The more voluminous mane Ace has grown while confined to his chrysalis is now completely saturated with the same venom his pores secrete. This is due to his hair's sebaceous glands producing the awful concoction as well. Proximity allows the spearing arms to become coated by that venom when combed through thick locks, further enhancing their attack.

Amongst these upgrades, agility and speed has not been ignored. Ace has traded his draconian wings for a more avian pair. Their form is better suited for swift, death-defying dives than previously. Also intervertebral discs have become more elastic and cushioned for greater flexibility, quite a boon when executing evasive maneuvers.

High-flying and fast-paced, Ace’s approach to life and battle is much the same: great risk for greater reward. This is not to say that he’s chaotic (dear Mother forbid)—far from it. It simply means he possesses utmost confidence in his innate talents to the point that no odds to him are unbeatable. A double-edged sword since that exact confidence which drives him to peak performance is the exact trait responsible for his complete arrogance.

Never would he believe himself to have a say in how others might do their respective jobs, as Mother clearly designed them to excel in those. But if anyone dares to best him at his own assignment, an earful will surely be given to that individual, as well as an ass-whooping from fifty different directions if he’s allowed to give them their due. Along similar lines, those not gunning for his position as air support but dabbling in its aspects nonetheless receive little in the way of encouragement for their attempts; at most, he might condescend with the verbal equivalent of a pat on the head and a loud derisive laugh. After all, they haven’t a chance of replicating his precise movements.

Beyond the matter of his soldiering, he is absolutely willing to be chummy with Hivemates so long as they are willing to put up with his braggart nature and tendency to bloviate until every avenue of conversation able to lead to himself is exhausted. A forthright sort, good-natured ribbing falls from his mouth as often as tactless observations. Any offense taken is a sign to him that his comment has hit a sore spot of truth, and rarely afterward can he be convinced otherwise of this conclusion.

Beside the Hive at large, Ace can be considered an absolute devotee to his Mother. In fact, she might be the only one capable of modifying his views on a subject with as little as a gentle nudge. Everything he does is to please her, the well-spring of addictive affection she is. To fail her… no, the possibility cannot be entertained.

That way lies ruin and despair.

Darkpiercer- A ring that wreathes the weapon it adorns in flame. When worn by Ace, any attacks with the appendage it is on also inflict cryogenic burns. He prefers leaving it on his stinger due to, as is typical of Drones, an intense aversion to asymmetry.