Home
Death lives in an extradimensional realm called Death's Domain. Within the domain, his home looks like a Victorian house with a garden and is well tended, but is predominantly in shades of black and decorated with a skull and crossbone motif. It is called "Mon Repos", (Quirmian for "my place of rest"), and is much larger on the inside, because Death has not quite mastered the art of scale. Similarly, because he does not quite understand real distance compared to perspective, the surrounding terrain is actually relatively close, but blurred to appear farther away. Death adds a large golden wheat field to the grounds after the events of Reaper Man. There is also a tree swing, created by Death for his granddaughter Susan, which swings through the trunk of the tree.
In addition to the inside of the house being larger than the outside, there are doors that reach a height of several yards and at the same time are only few feet tall. He has a bathroom which he never uses, with a bar of bone-white, rock-hard soap and a towel rack with hard towels attached to the rack. The only usable items in the bathroom are a small bar of regular soap and one normal towel, both brought there by his manservant Albert.
The plumbing of his house has greatly confused him and in Death's Domain, it is explained that the pipes are completely solid, as is the u-bend for the florally-decorated toilet. The towels he originally constructed are also useless; he didn't realise that they had to bend, fold and be soft. In his 'bedroom' (which he never actually sleeps in), he has a violin, which he attempts to play. However, as with everything in his domain, he cannot create, only mimic. Therefore, he creates a racket, instead of music. This is said to greatly frustrate him.
Read more about this topic: Death (Discworld)
Famous quotes containing the word home:
“Contrary to all we hear about women and their empty-nest problem, it may be fathers more often than mothers who are pained by the children’s imminent or actual departure—fathers who want to hold back the clock, to keep the children in the home for just a little longer. Repeatedly women compare their own relief to their husband’s distress”
—Lillian Breslow Rubin (20th century)
“Funny ain’t it. Here I am worrying about a woman. Men don’t worry much about women when they’re around. But when it gets way off from home like we are now, and where he knows he’s going a lot further away ... I mean that’s when a woman gets workin’ in your mind. You reckon you’re a fool for not noticin’ before how, how big a part of things they be. There ain’t nothin’ like seein’ a woman’s face.”
—Dudley Nichols (1895–1960)
“Chrome: her pretty childface smooth as steel, with eyes that would have been at home at the bottom of some deep Atlantic trench, cold gray eyes that lived under terrible pressure. They say she cooked her own cancers for people who crossed her, rococo custom variations that took years to kill you.”
—William Gibson (b. 1948)