Living... in Death's Domain, another dimension where he lives with his servant, Albert, and his horse, Binky. Although not needing sleep or food, Death lives in a well-kept house, which he has decorated in various shades of black.
Profession... grim reaper of Discworld. Although the fact of human mortality ensures that death exists, human belief in a grim reaper led to materialization of Death. He serves under Azazel, the reaper of universes. After a brief retirement, Death is joined by Death of Rats, who aids him in his rodent duties. Despite the job description, Death himself bears no malice towards humanity. It's simply his job, and one he takes pride in doing well, even if he occasionally bends the rules. As Death puts it, "WHAT CAN THE HARVEST HOPE FOR, IF NOT THE CARE OF THE REAPER MAN?" Did we mention he always speaks in all caps?
Interests... cats, curries, and trying to figure out humanity. Though humans understand Death quite well, the knowledge does not go both ways, with Death often marveling at such things as "boredom" and "humor." However, humanity has a funny way of rubbing off, and Death has slowly taken on more human traits.
Relationship Status... none. He’s still working on understanding the whole “romance” thing. Death might be human enough to adopt a daughter, but romantic love is still far beyond him – something that might also have to do with being a six-foot-tall skeleton.
Challenge... balancing work and personal life. In addition to occasional ambivalence towards his work, Death often clashes with the Auditors, cosmic bureaucrats who don't approve of Death's fondness for humanity. In addition, Death has to contend with whatever magical mischief Discworld decides to throw at him. Discworld is not a place well-known for calm and order, and Death doesn’t get to escape that. He even has to fill in as the Hogfather, Discworld’s equivalent of Santa Claus.
Personality... polite, affable, and efficient. Though he starts out as your run-of-the-mill psychopomp, a few millennia in the mortal realm have caused DEATH to be quite enamored of life, even if he doesn’t quite understand it. Sure, he has a job to do – and DEATH is “terribly, terribly good at his job” – but that doesn’t mean he can’t also have a heart. Whether it’s saving the Discworld’s version of Santa Claus or trying to bond with his distant granddaughter (family bonding always gets tricky once different states of mortality are involved), DEATH’s adventures are always a delight.
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