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Grieving was hard. Grieving a life you no longer could remember was harder; the loss of those that used to be dear to him; the chaos in his mind that could not be properly inspected; the details he could feel but not understand. Vessel thought these memories would come back to him eventually, but it seemed he lost more and more without regaining any.
Sometimes he feels taunted in dreams, visions of a more human like version of himself in deep ocean, begging for air while trying to dive deeper, to finally become free of pain. Hands pulling him down and pressing against his ribs and eyes, pushing and pushing and pushing. A pressure so strong he'll wake up gasping for air, screaming with pure terror and flying up from where he lays. On days like this, the singer can bearly look at a glass of water, even the feel of his own saliva making him nauseous.
He sees the scars on his arms, the bumpy texture and discoloured patches of raised skin from where he sliced and burned. A deep reminder of the things he went through but cannot remember. He knows he died, he knows he drowned, he does not know why.
II is a man he has known for many years, from a rotten time that Vessel chooses not to think about. It's easier to ignore than relive the cruelty they were handed by Sleep; they don't know how long they've known this life, but while living with just eachouther, it seemed to last centuries. Decades of spiritual beatings, lashing their minds with mental torture, abuse for their suffering and pain. Long after, Sleep learned the ways of human life, a delicate thing that will be tarnished upon heavy labour.
II came to the manor broken and bloody, a bleeding and bruised throat, burned by the harsh friction of a rope. He hadn't spoken for a while, years maybe, but they seemed to have a bind in eachothers conscience that knew eachother for what they wanted and who they were. The two were like oil and water for a lingering amount of time, resting against eachother while never mixing. They avoided contact, but sat in ancient and dirty rooms patting out rhythms and humming tunes.
The bond that formed was irreplaceable, a connection that could not be broken. Strong and heavy, the men seemed to joined together as one through time, presenting offerings to eachother to make sure they were perfect, and then subjecting them to Sleep's judgement. A torturous project that took an age to perfect.
Eventually, a large man stumbled in, body scarred with bright red patches around his body that were lined with Sleep's touch, a sure sign this was His Third. He was thin and disfigured, hair dead and matted with blood, and his fingers bent in odd directions. He took a while to heal, body damaged in such a way that recovery felt impossible.
Sleep's touch affected him the quickest; a black veil that covered all their pale skin seemed to expand like a balloon, starting over their hearts and moving out. Scars were outlined in gold, and their irises burned bright blue, while the sclera seemed to dim to a dark grey. His dark hair thinned before becoming long and bright. They each had unique features; Vessel's eyes multiplied and became bright ruby red; II's body became narrow but muscled; III's hair seemed to change drastically often, and he grew taller than he originally was, towering over everyone even while sitting.
He lost his meekness over time, becoming a loud presence that seemed to invite the trio into a comfortable collection. He seeked out physical comfort more easily then the other two, who craved it but didn't know how to ask. III shuffled into their bedrooms and often dragged II into Vessel's room, bringing the smaller between the two monumental men to rest for a few hours.
III was often abrasive, an energetic presence that focused on things for a short period of time, relying on that for joy, before he lost interest and moved into another. However, he never did this for the boys he shared a house with, he would drop whatever he was focused on when Vessel walked into a room, or when he heard II's feet dragging through the long hallways. They were the ones who gave him a second life, another chance at something that was taken from him. Though he wasn't sure what exactly happened, the terrors of speeding vehicles that races passed him, and then, straight into him gave him enough to estimate a guess.
A fourth made their way in and then out of the pack the way you would imagine a horse running through a cottage would feel. The man had been brought back to life after a death he had been open about, too open. He disappeared once, and then never reappeared. Vessel was the most affected by this due to the connection he had made with the man, bonding over simple pleasures in a way not even II had managed. The pain soon faded and the memory of the man left too, a faint existence that was no longer mentioned by any of them, but was no longer grieved either.
The fifth, whom took the fourth role, entered with an decayed body, a natural gray tint that covered his body, and a rasp in his throat. He had a chronic pain in his lungs and often gagged over his breathing. It was a struggle that faded over the years, though his body never felt complete. The vessels' bodies were not functioning as live humans, but technically undead corpses that thrived through their God's power. IV had gained gold streaks through his hair, and his bright blue eyes had a smokey line orbiting them. His cheeks were sharp in a way that implies a hunger that couldn't be fixed, a life of no food or luxury.
He was a sweet soul who took a liking to III the most, he appeared like a shadow for the giant, and curled around him when possible. Nearly unconsciously, he created an unspoken rule: no one was to sleep by themselves. He was the one to realise the group was still being plagued by nightmares, his own containing wires connected to him, his body being sliced open at the stomach and being emptied and filled with chemicals and drugs to help, but still did nothing. A terminal illness that affected him after death. IV was the only one who had the most memories of his life before Sleep, but fortunately was losing them quite quickly.
The group was fulfilled and Sleep was finally happy, their band had taken off at a level that would have shocked Vessel to a second death if you had told him when it was just him and Sleep. Nightmares continued to torture them, but the frequency had dimmed and the intensity was lacking. The men were now complete.