Kitsune Peril was awakened by a swift flick of Arcade's haptic gauntlet. The metal giant rose from her knight-like kneeling position, and then stood there rigidly, as though she were a hardened sentinel poised to assault would-be trespassers that possessed enough gall to challenge her.

Long before, Kitsune Peril, and a few select others of her ilk, had risen to lively animation with the turn of a switch and the ensuing piercing whine of an exceptionally powerful--yet surprisingly compact--turbine engine. Relative to Ruthless, the thought was a mental throwback to a sort of 'Golden Era' for Kitsune Peril's model type, where conventional fuels and rudimentary generators were the only viable solutions for feeding adequate levels to the heart of a GEAR of her specific caliber and nature, where heavy hydraulic cylinders, bulky pumps and hydraulic rotary motors bestowed upon Peril great physical strength and the capacity to don the heaviest of battle plate; the sounds of locomotion signifying potency and resolve, the booming roar of an autocannon filling enemies with a sense of dread and impending doom.

The nostalgic memory was a pleasant one for him, for he had spent considerable time reading old manuscripts and watching archaic video logs that delved into the relatively brief yet impactive history of GEARs and GEAR-related technology, and how these engineering marvels of pristine martial might eventually came to be valued assets to any serious military campaign. The advent of suitable technological advancements had restricted the old war engine to a dull purr however, a dense and robust power cell of unmatched sophistication and craftsmanship seeing to all of the suit's energy needs and desires.

[i]From books to the cockpit.[/i] Arcade mused to himself. [i]Ha! The irony is just a practical joke I swear.[/i]

To afford himself an unrestrained view of the vehicle bay, the king cheetah had left Peril's cockpit door open, with the noises of busy combat and noncombat personnel alike feeding him a contentious stream of acoustic information.

Inner-cockpit still exposed, Arcade commanded his GEAR to assume a traditional fighting stance. Metal creaked and clattered at the sudden motion.

After rolling her shoulders and loosening the muscle fibers for action, he took a few jabs in the air with Kitsune's armored fists, paying mind to the bustling motion all around him within the vehicle bay to avoid a possible accident. Each blow sent an audible [i]woosh[/i] through the air, the movements awkward and jerky due to the GEAR's bulkier-than-average armor and heavily-reinforced joints. 

A hand placed upon her right hip and fauld concluded Peril's brief warm-up session. Her pilot opted to embrace his inner slacker, though; two feet were propped up against the edge of the opened torso, while two furry hands comfortably motioned their way the back of an equally-furry head.