The rest of the run (if you could call a man in a leopard onesie slightly power-walking while wailing about a stitch in his side and how working out blows "a run") was surprisingly informative. Between complaints, Zac got to listen to Halphas talk more, and the eagle really did like talking.
"...and that's how we killed the Easter Bunny," Halphas said, looking fondly out into space. "I knew I'd never enjoy working for any captain other than March after that. Got myself reassigned that very evening."
Zac shuffled towards the eagle, who was holding open the dining room door. He wanted to ask more about the Easter Bunny being a real thing and how stupid that sounded. He also wanted to ignore the eagle and walk straight towards the closest chair and collapse. But the eagle had mentioned Marchosias, and Zac needed to do some detective work.
"A big win," Zac said, trying much too hard to sound nonchalant, which was immediately undercut by his huffing and wheezing. "And you didn't bring the Captain out to Evil Gay Hooters to get some wings and look at butts after? I thought you all liked March."
Halphas looked a bit confused. "Like… March? I mean..." He looked around to check if anyone else was awake yet. "He's a great captain."
Zac finally got to a chair and slowly lowered himself into it. Yeah, his legs were going to hurt a lot. Spontaneous two-mile runs in slippers were not a good life choice. "Yeah, you all seem to respect him, but I thought this was a goofy found family, fraternal bonds from your time doing bad dog shit together, bros before hoes because all the bros are gay or at least bi-flexible… situation."
"Uhh..." Halphas walked over to the table and, with a puff of black smoke, poofed a big tub of protein powder into existence. "I don't know what that really means, but we are demons. We don't like each other."
Zac happily grabbed a box of waffles from Halphas as the eagle demon began creating a breakfast spread. "You say that, but that's just years of ingrained toxic masculinity," Zac said through his first bites of unheated breakfast. "I know you all care for each other. After an eternity of battles with your backs to each other as you brave the assault of angels... It's been centuries since you've even needed to express your feelings towards each other in words since you're all so in sync with each other. Just a glance of the eyes, a subtle gesture, a..."
Zac's voice trailed off, his eyes glazing over. "Touch of the hands. How lonely you all have been. So of course it would only be natural that you began to look towards each other for comfort... for pleasure..."
Zac looked up to see Halphas humming to himself and shaking a big protein drink next to his head.
"What was that?" the eagle asked as the drink sloshed loudly.
"Nothing," Zac said wistfully, "just enjoying my shipping hobby."
He was just beginning to imagine Halphas and Marchosias getting steamy in the Captain's war tent… perhaps over a map table, pushing all the little figurines aside and spilling a bottle of ink over some random documents… when Halphas actually acknowledged what Zac had said.
"Boats, huh?" the demon said between slurps of his chunky, not-shaken-enough protein powder syrup. "I actually know a bit about them too. I'm surprised you're into that sort of thing. After Bune told us you were an artist, I just thought you'd be into lame chick stuff."
Zac's mind raced, trying to process how not to seem like he was into "lame chick stuff" in front of the very sexy demon. "Yeah, ships, haha. Uh, like, it's so cool that they don't sink and stuff." Zac was floundering. "So, what do you like about ships?"
"I uh..." Halphas looked a bit confused by the extremely vague question. "I guess I like the spectacle. It's do or die. Imagine... the Battle of Svolder."
Halphas began to light up. He put down his shaker, his golden eyes widening with enthusiasm. He began to gesture with his hands, mapping out fleet formations on the empty table using pepper grinders and a stray fork. "King Olaf was cornered! His longship, the Long Serpent, was surrounded by enemies. But he didn't run. He tied his ships together into a floating fortress! It was brutal! Axes swinging, men falling into the freezing water, the sea turning red! Pure, chaotic, close-quarters carnage on a wooden platform that could burn or sink at any moment!"
Zac slowly relaxed in his chair as Halphas's excited story washed over him. Much like Bune's lectures, he wasn't really listening to the historical details, but seeing the sexy and scantily dressed eagle geeking out so hard was endearing. 'He's not a big stupid himbo meathead,' Zac thought, admiring the way Halphas's pecs flexed when he simulated an axe swing. 'He's a nerdy vending machine who never skips leg day. So fucking perfect. I wonder if he'd give me his number if I asked.'
"It's about resolve!" Halphas gushed, slamming a fist into his open palm. "No retreat, no surrender! If you do not push forward and take the victory, only a cold watery grave awaits you!"
Halphas paused, his chest heaving slightly from the exertion of his storytelling. He looked at Zac, then down at his impromptu battle map of breakfast condiments, and seemed to realize he was getting a little too intense. He cleared his throat, quickly grabbing his protein shaker and downing the rest in one go. "But uh, yeah. Boats are cool and stuff, I guess. It's not like they're that interesting."
Zac raised a skeptical eyebrow, leaning forward over his waffle box. "So, did any of the Vikings say 'never let go' right before immediately leaving their lover to drown in the freezing water even though there was clearly enough room on the door for two people?"
Halphas blinked, his golden eyes narrowing in confusion. "Uhh... I don't think so. Most of them died by axe wounds or drowning under the weight of their armor. There wasn't much time for floating door logistics."
"Well, you wouldn't have to worry about that from me," Zac said fiercely, wiping sticky waffle crumbs from his hands onto his leopard-print thighs. "I have excellent grip strength. I'm not some bitch like Rose."
Halphas opened his beak to ask who Rose was and why she was a bitch, but Zac was already gone.
His eyes glazed over as the dining hall dissolved into the opulent, mahogany-paneled stateroom of a luxury ocean liner. Soft, golden light filtered through a porthole, illuminating Halphas, who was draped dramatically across a velvet fainting couch. He was wearing nothing but a small, white towel loosely knotted at his hip.
"Paint me, Zachary," Dream-Halphas rumbled, his voice like velvet over gravel. "Paint me like one of your monster men."
Zac, holding a charcoal stick and wearing a beret for some reason, frowned critically at his subject. "I can't capture your essence with that towel in the way, Hal," he scolded gently. "To truly understand the enormity of your masculine beauty, I need to see the... eagle dick."
Imagination-Halphas smirked and reached for the knot of the towel. "Anything for your lame chick art..."
Zac leaned forward, breathless, as the towel began to slip-