[b]Mackenzie McDowell - Ruins of Las Vegas[/b]

A low buzzing noise echoed throughout the ruins as a vespa pulled up at the outskirts. Sitting atop the red machine was a girl in her late teens, one who didn't seem to be wearing a helmet or any kind of protective gear. Not that she would even if she needed it; after all, if the choice came between a helmet and her hat, the hat would win every time.

So it was a good thing that she didn't actually need any protection. One of the perks of being completely invulnerable, really, but not nearly as welcome as the ability to walk through even a blasted out wreck like Vegas without any fear; after all, if she was attacked by anyone, what was the worst they could do to her? She couldn't be hurt. It wasn't like she was ever in any real danger.

"Meh, at least it's quiet..." Not much really happened in Vegas after the incident, after all. It would be a good place to lay low and make some plans. ...Well, more plans than just 'waltz up to the bad guys and bash their faces in', at least. Revving up the vespa again, Mackenzie McDowell drove past the scorched 'Welcome to Las Vegas' sign, mentally noting that it didn't look so 'fabulous' anymore. As she drove on, she wondered how the old gang were doing... Then again, they were tough kids. They could look after themselves. They'd even fought Dr. Doom once! Kind of. Sort of. Not really. It was a Doombot. But then it's [i]always[/i] a Doombot. She'd started taking a mental note of how many times she'd heard people claim they'd fought, beaten and/or killed Dr. Doom, since every other person she met seemed to do so. By this point she was starting to wonder if Victor von Doom ever actually existed, or if he was nothing but a group of robots all claiming to be the same person. Maybe he was like Ultron...

...Scratch that, no way he was like Ultron. She'd been somewhere Ultron had attacked and... Well, she didn't like to think about that, since she liked sleeping peacefully.

"...Good enough place to set up camp, I guess." The casino seemed to be [i]mostly[/i] intact, and she liked having a roof over her head. And again, if there was anyone lying in wait inside it wasn't like they could do anything to her. Propping the vespa up against a broken slot machine, she stretched her arms to the sky and moaned. Invulnerable or not, driving for that long would make [i]anyone[/i] feel stiff.

"So this is Sin City, huh..." she thought aloud. It was a bad habit, sure, but no-one ever seemed to call her out on it. "Well, I'm in a gambling mood... And somehow I feel like my luck's about to change for the better, heheh."

After all, didn't Vegas also used to be called [i]The City of Second Chances[/i]? It was well past time for this world to get a second chance.