THERE'S NO JUSTICE. THERE'S JUST ME.
Death is everywhere, and in varied cultures, is personified differently in a physical image. This particular Death happens to be more of a traditionalist, from his skeletal features to the black robes he wears and the large scythe he carries. As any normal Anthropomorphic Personification, Death does what he's expected to do, his job though in particular not being one most living things look forward to his carrying out. But mindless reaping of souls soon gave way to something more; curiousity. Death began to take interest in the living, his observations leading to experimentations with things, and perhaps now and then doing what some might consider 'meddling.' More often than not, Death has gone into periods of depression and extreme longing for having a 'normal' life. Perhaps that's why he's often about the mortal world. But in the end, it seems there's only one thing an immortal seven foot skeleton can be good at… well, two- he's pretty good in the wheat fields.
He is the physical embodiment of that which the living have no wish to meet, or at least, the physical embodiment chosen for this particular Death of a flat world that balances on the backs of four elephants atop a giant turtle. Yeah, go figure that one. As Death is not a creature of Time, both past and present are the same to him. As can be expected, Death's been doing his job for quite a while. At one time, he had attempted to appear to the soon-to-be or already departed as whatever image of the Reaper they expected according to culture or species. This however became quite tedious after a while, so Death tends to stick to the universally accepted black robed skeleton with a scythe.
Strange but perhaps unsurprising is it that the usherer of death would become so fascinated with the Living. The mortal world and its humans especially have always drawn interest, and influenced the way Death structured his domain. Unfortunately he has no sense of proportion, and nor does he understand the concept of usage for items such as towels and umbrella holders, and much of the things he has copied in his void of dwelling are two-toned. The keyword is that he doesn't create, but copy things, and most is based by visual reference.
His activities have been more greatly recorded about the universe of A'Tuin, and he ventures wherever his duty calls him. During his duty (can't exactly say lifetime, can we?) he has adopted a girl that had become orphaned after her parents got killed in a coach accident of sorts. Later on, in what he figured a trend for all good businessmen, he took on an apprentice by the name of Mort and taught him the trade. Mort very nearly took over the business for good, and Death would have been satisfied with the part-time job he'd found at a fastfood place, but it was not meant to be. He resumed his position after challenging Mort to a duel, but not without some reluctance. He didn't leave his former apprentice empty-handed, however, and as Mort somehow became attracted to Death's adopted daughter, she and Mort eventually married, inherited a lovely title _ and quite a patch of land. Later Death gained from apprentice and 'daughter' a grandaughter- Susan Sto-Helit, whom began to show signs of inheriting Death's powers by some strange occult means or another. More than once she has stepped into her grandfather's shoes to take care of business while he was off in one of his moments of deep thought and/or mingling with the mortals. At other times, things just happened to work out for him that way since Death technically shouldn't meddle in the affairs of the living. Seems he's always brought back to the grim facts that he has a job to do and he's the only one to do it. Or at least, do it right.
Life has obviously fascinated Death, being that as Death, he's never really had one. The poor ol' guy's been apt to ponder (perhaps a bit too hard) how life might be like. He's fond of cats, has quite a bit of them running around his little realm, but now and then he gets depressed about his job and responsibilities. More than once has he gone off to explore and experience the mortal world himself, and strange as it might sound, people don't seem to notice a giant skeleton in their midst. Or perhaps it's just that given the way their brains work, they just refuse to believe what they see, things however, which children readily are willing to accept. A few times Death's even forgotten his 'deathness' and nearly settled quite comfortably into being mortal. But he's always returned to his duties, as who else would do them, otherwise?
He's shifted from being a passive observer on occasion, although as a rule he should remain neutral. After all, meddling with the fate of one could very well destroy the whole world. Or at least, that was one of the things that had come preset when he came into existence. Yet, it's hard for observations not to have an influence on the observer. He's intervened when he's felt the extreme need to (bend the rules, not break, of course!), exhibiting emotions not befitting of someone going by the title of Death. He's developed things like a personality, a pursuing of hobbies and understanding of these mortals called humans, and an odd taste for curry. Yet, he could care less for Drama, and hasn't much of a sense of humor. There was nothing funny about death.
Although usually the ones that ultimately see him are those that are just about to bite the dust, there are a few acceptions. Wizards, for one thing, and as mentioned before, children who have the capacity to believe in things adults refuse to. Usually those who's time is due don't care to see Death. He isn't exactly one of those that people look forward to seeing. So Death makes an effort to be more….likeable. His escapades as the Hogfather (Discworld's version of Santa Claus) gave him a taste of what it felt like for people to actually look forward to seeing him rather than dread it.
As Death, he knows no fear, because in the end there is only death, and it'd be rather silly to fear himself. While his list of acquaintances is quite vast, his list of close friends is quite short. And then there are his fellow Riders of the Apocralypse that double as his drinking buddies. Death is always rather calm, and one might even go so far as to say, lacking in emotion. But then, there is only so much emotion that a skull can convey. Death always speaks IN CAPITALS, but it's amazing how much of a difference something said conversationally, and something said in more… demanding tones can be.
Death is a reaper of souls. This does not mean he goes on wonton acts of killing things, for that is not his job. His job is merely to release the souls of those that have reached the end of their patheticly short mortal lives to be ushered on to the next. Sometimes someone will have it in their heads to challenge Death to a game, but they ultimately end up losing. As the Grim Reaper, he's rather proficient with a scythe, whether for broad, wheat-cleaving manuevers or more surgical, minute procedures. He also owns a sword, which he keeps in an umbrella holder by the front door of his abode. Death is able to replicate things as he's seen them, but when it comes down to actual working ability for some things, he just hasn't grasped the knack. He doesn't think in dimensions, has no sense of proportion. Taking a walk through his domain is bound to give anyone with a solid mind for physics and engineering a large headache. He is not restricted to time, and can stop it when he finds the need to. Doors are no obstacle for him since he can pass through walls. He can never get lost, always knowing where he is, be it some twenty thousand leagues beneath the sea or in one of those dastardly hedge mazes. Being Death, he has never had life, although he has experienced it once. He is quite sensitive to matters concerning the existing and the non- able to tell right away if something is amiss. Of course, whether he can do something about it is another thing entirely. Getting around is a breeze since he can open doors in timespace and simply step from one place to another. But for going places in style, there's always his horse, Binky.
Death can relate to everyone, sooner or later.