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"We set off at dawn..." Daisy murmured to herself, snorting as she trudged up the cracked mud path, dragging a blindfolded Jon along with her. She didn’t even know when dawn was, but she was certain that it didn't look like this, with an electric green hue in the sky. Jon said he would Know when, but for the past few hours he’d been dramatically retelling each and everyone’s fears and suffering. She knew it wasn't his fault, not really, but it was really annoying having to wait for his little episodes to end.
"— And I look up at the sky, endless and vast and I'm sure that it looked back," Jon stuttered, finally being brought back to himself. And just in time too, they reached the old beat-up jeep that they stole from the Flesh domain where the car doors always slammed on your fingers. Daisy was apprehensive then, not keen on losing her fingers, but Jon had assured her that it wouldn't try to eat them alive when they left. She's thankful they have it now; it was one of the only things that brought her any comfort. The car reminded her of the one from her childhood, the one she and ‘ma would drive around in, in search of a hunt.
She slapped Jon upside his head, causing him to yelp in indignation. "This was the longest one yet, Jon, you said the blindfold would help," Daisy said, her voice raspy from disuse. It wasn't like she had anyone to talk to, and a possessed Jon wasn't much of a conversationalist. Though, she thought to herself, a "normal" Jon wasn't much better.
“It does. If I take it off, I'd be ranting every moment of the day. This is the best we have right now."
"Other than gouging them out, you mean.” She responded dryly.
"Yes, other than gouging them out. I would've done so already, but it-" he gestured to the large pupil in the sky, risen like a bloated Sun, far too close to the Earth, all-seeing and staring, “—won't let me. We’re lucky it doesn't have full control over my body; otherwise, it’d be yanking this off," he pointed back to the blindfold.
Daisy just sighed, gloomily wishing that Basira was here. She’d know what to do, and would be much nicer to talk to. Daisy had left her back in the eternal Hunt domain; they’d been split up, and she was too busy making sure that the antichrist-slash-archivist-slash-Jon wouldn't get mauled by some botched werewolf. She shivered at the thought, recalling how she was once one of those botched werewolves.
She mentally shook it off, yanking the car door open on the driver’s side and climbing in. Jon does the same on the passenger side, and once she started the engine, he started fiddling with the radio, even though there's barely any signal. The only things that played was some drama the Web was hosting about someone’s suffering with addiction, and a channel where a distorted voice narrated your drive in unnecessary detail. Jon didn't care for either, turning the dial to static. It never comforted her, but she knew Jon was missing those stupid tape recorders he always carried around—before all this, back in the archives.
He settled back into his seat, turning his head back to the window. It shouldn't freak Daisy out anymore, the way he could see everything even if he couldn't really see. She'd decided not to judge any of Jon’s weird monster traits after he saved her from that wretched coffin. She'd spent too long trying to kill him for his monster stuff anyway. She recalled how it felt to hold his dull knife at his throat, how it dug in slightly, and the thrilling chill that traveled up her spine. She knew now that she was one of those monsters—that hunting them made her become one of them—but that didn't stop the urge, even now. It’d be wrong of her to try and kill Jon after all they’d been through. Yes, she thought, Jon was probably the least monstrous of them all, even with the whole starting the apocalypse and becoming his patron God's sort-of-vessel.
She began to drive through the dried-out landscape, ignoring the broken umbrellas and impossible machinations. The Extinction was always a bummer to run into, with the constant dread of life after death. Even the Desolation's were better than theirs, and it was all just fire.
Daisy looked back up at the sky, seeing nothing but kaleidoscope green. "Hey, Jon, how do you even know when dawn is?" She asked suddenly.
Jon grumbled to himself, and Daisy glanced over, catching an embarrassed flush dusting his dark cheeks, and raised an eyebrow. He sighed, then mumbled, "I don't. ‘Just thought it sounded cool if I said it like that." Daisy chuckled, then sped up eager to get out of the wasteland. Hopefully, they’ll find Basira and Martin in the next domain they enter. She wanted to see the rise of dawn when this was all over.