I'm testing waters getting my writing mojo on with a cross-universe fanfic with some of my OC and RWBY, cus they're wonderful characters and maybe I won't suck at portraying them.
If y'all want, let me know how this feels and how you think the scene is set.
Blake felt herself waking from a fever dream - she’d been on the back of Yang’s bike, wind rushing past and sunlight shining through fleeting treetops. But the wind and sun were distorted, hard to grasp, ugly - and the bike was getting longer, she was at the back, scrambling for something to grab onto, the driver - Yang? - was getting further away, the bike was melting in the middle -
Gasp. Pain. Coherence. Blood and ringing in her ears. Harsh light flooded her slowly opening amber eyes, but she realized quickly that the light was in fact dull, muddy, save flashes of some bright white-blue that she was unsure of the source. Groaning, she palmed the ground beneath her - dry, warm, rocky - and was thankfully able to balance on her side, closing her eyes to fight nausea.
The new angle of wind let her feel that half her face was wet with something, and tickled her upper ears. When one twitched in response, it shot pain down to her scalp and she suppressed a yelp. Gingerly, she explored it with her free hand and found it bloody, sensitive. She felt it was slightly flayed on the outside, and traced a related, already clotting scrape on her head. So there was probably a ton of blood drying on her face. She grimaced, found she was able to push to a sitting position and slowly open her eyes.
The nausea hadn’t been the only thing keeping her eyes shut - she felt both a stab of fear and relief when she found she was alone. The thing - the light - that had brought her here had also grabbed the team, but it had separated them. By how much? Blake wrapped her arms around her legs, suddenly trembling in spite of the relative warmth of the wind - were they in the same place? Would she find Yang or Ruby over the scraggly hill in front of her? Alive? Maybe it dropped Weiss in the sky or ocean?
Blake forced her eyes shut, took deep breaths. Cool it, Belladonna, she told herself. If you’re alive, then they must be, too. You just have to get on your feet.
The cat faunus breathed a long exhale, then slowly groaned to a standing position. She nodded to herself - a bit sore and banged up, but everything worked. Realizing from her injuries that her aura had been completely consumed protecting her in the - landing? - Blake knelt, slid her miraculously present Gambol Shroud from its sheath and made sure it wasn’t damaged (miracles, she thought), and clambered to the top of the small, scrappy hill she was on to carefully take stock of her surroundings. Despite herself, she could only stare.
The landscape was a torn, rippled canvas of gunmetal gray and every dull shade of brown. It was spotted with odd blips of color that Blake felt for some reason came from elsewhere - some glowed, some looked like pieces of something greater. She picked out was she was sure was siding of a house; and there was some kind of bright electrical coil; there was a piece of some kind of wheeled vehicle; there were bits of everything, and everything else Blake couldn’t identify. It was an immense junkyard. Blake saw great gouges trailed across it, intersecting, in all directions - they were fifty to a hundred feet wide, and made rises on other side. Startled, she swivelled her head. Her hill was one of them. Then she saw, making its way through a massive gray cloud of dust, the source of the gouges. And the blue-white light.
A tornado made of thick lightning and shattering mirrors - that’s all Blake could think as she saw the hot, blue-white distorted thing - ambled about the junkyard, not too far but getting further.
