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Description
Mot Meagles was born under troubled skies in 1859. The bastard son of a single mother in Victorian England, Meagles had nothing but bad luck his entire life. His mother was an old abusive crone who wanted nothing to do with him until he became old enough to work for money. Meagles, a kind soul in spite of his upbringing, couldn't bring himself to leave his mother behind forever despite his better judgment. She sapped him of most of his finances until one day she just stopped coming around. No one asked any questions as to why. With nearly no friends, terrible Victorian working conditions, and a full list of debtors, the only thing that ever shined a light into his life was the girl he fell in love with, and who loved him back. They married, and though they lived in cramped squalor, they were happy. Though they wanted one, they struggled to have a child, their efforts only being rewarded after years of trying. Bethlem Meagles was born in 1885, and at last their lives were complete.

However, the birth was not without complications, and the pregnancy left Mot's wife terminally ill. By 1887, she was catatonic, and one day her heart stopped beating. Mot was devastated, and grief overcame him. He tried to care for Bethlem, but the boy was… odd. The kid would scream bloody murder, tear up the house, and speak in tongues like afflicted with some demonic curse. After a while, it drove Mot to insanity. He hallucinated, spiraled out of consciousness, and saw demons everywhere. He couldn't take care of himself or his son, and so in 1888, he killed himself in a delirious stupor.

While that should be been the end, or worse, the beginning of eternal torture in Mot's Victorian mind, he was given a second chance. A skeletal specter, Teena Longsworthe, collected his soul and transformed him to her likeness. Free from mortal madness, Mot used his second chance to find out what hex was afflicting his boy. The rabbit hole he went down was lined with a trail of bodies belonging to sex workers across Whitechapel. There he'd cross paths with the mystical Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn, and come into conflict with a malevolent Russian demon named Nicolai Vasiliev, better known as Jack the Ripper. Mot's boy sadly didn't last long in the wake of Jack's conspiracy, but Teena transformed the boy's soul into a reaper so that the two could live forever with one another. At last, Mot found peace, and his time is now devoted to training their newest recruit, Dawn Hewlett, in handling death gently and respectfully. He's much more sociable and chatty than their soured boss, which is certainly something Dawn desperately needs on her journey.

Design notes, uuuugh men's clothing is the bane of my existence. Naturally, I suppose. But, to be fair, I'm actually okay with how this came out. Like with Teena, there's room for improvement, but for what I set out to do, it's not half bad. Also like Teena, I wanted to give Mot's outfit the visage of a human skeleton. I don't have quite as many layers to work with on men's clothing so instead I opted for lots of straps. It's a little awkward but it's not completely out of place for some of the Victorian reference images I stumbled across. Winter and military clothing lent a lot of credence to my thought process. For his mortal form, I'd probably have given him that classic Victorian color palette with red being the primary color of his jacket, mixed with yellow or leather highlights, and probably a black or gray bottom half. Not quite army quality, but formal enough to walk on his way to work without getting sneered at by crusty rich assholes. Though… to be fair, crusty rich assholes tend to sneer no matter what. Sorry Mot.

Description
Mot Meagles was born under troubled skies in 1859. The bastard son of a single mother in Victorian England, Meagles had nothing but bad luck his entire life. His mother was an old abusive crone who wanted nothing to do with him until he became old enough to work for money. Meagles, a kind soul in spite of his upbringing, couldn't bring himself to leave his mother behind forever despite his better judgment. She sapped him of most of his finances until one day she just stopped coming around. No one asked any questions as to why. With nearly no friends, terrible Victorian working conditions, and a full list of debtors, the only thing that ever shined a light into his life was the girl he fell in love with, and who loved him back. They married, and though they lived in cramped squalor, they were happy. Though they wanted one, they struggled to have a child, their efforts only being rewarded after years of trying. Bethlem Meagles was born in 1885, and at last their lives were complete.

However, the birth was not without complications, and the pregnancy left Mot's wife terminally ill. By 1887, she was catatonic, and one day her heart stopped beating. Mot was devastated, and grief overcame him. He tried to care for Bethlem, but the boy was… odd. The kid would scream bloody murder, tear up the house, and speak in tongues like afflicted with some demonic curse. After a while, it drove Mot to insanity. He hallucinated, spiraled out of consciousness, and saw demons everywhere. He couldn't take care of himself or his son, and so in 1888, he killed himself in a delirious stupor.

While that should be been the end, or worse, the beginning of eternal torture in Mot's Victorian mind, he was given a second chance. A skeletal specter, Teena Longsworthe, collected his soul and transformed him to her likeness. Free from mortal madness, Mot used his second chance to find out what hex was afflicting his boy. The rabbit hole he went down was lined with a trail of bodies belonging to sex workers across Whitechapel. There he'd cross paths with the mystical Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn, and come into conflict with a malevolent Russian demon named Nicolai Vasiliev, better known as Jack the Ripper. Mot's boy sadly didn't last long in the wake of Jack's conspiracy, but Teena transformed the boy's soul into a reaper so that the two could live forever with one another. At last, Mot found peace, and his time is now devoted to training their newest recruit, Dawn Hewlett, in handling death gently and respectfully. He's much more sociable and chatty than their soured boss, which is certainly something Dawn desperately needs on her journey.

Design notes, uuuugh men's clothing is the bane of my existence. Naturally, I suppose. But, to be fair, I'm actually okay with how this came out. Like with Teena, there's room for improvement, but for what I set out to do, it's not half bad. Also like Teena, I wanted to give Mot's outfit the visage of a human skeleton. I don't have quite as many layers to work with on men's clothing so instead I opted for lots of straps. It's a little awkward but it's not completely out of place for some of the Victorian reference images I stumbled across. Winter and military clothing lent a lot of credence to my thought process. For his mortal form, I'd probably have given him that classic Victorian color palette with red being the primary color of his jacket, mixed with yellow or leather highlights, and probably a black or gray bottom half. Not quite army quality, but formal enough to walk on his way to work without getting sneered at by crusty rich assholes. Though… to be fair, crusty rich assholes tend to sneer no matter what. Sorry Mot.