Midnight, the witching hour. Susan had heard it referred to as that. Not that any of the witches she had known gave any more significance to midnight than they did any other hour. Most, with the possible exception of Nanny Ogg, who had been known for the occasional late-night carouse in her day, were more likely to be sound asleep in their own beds at that hour, rather than running about in the dark up to some sort of mischief. Although she had never considered herself a witch, Susan was much of the same mind about the middle of the night. She didn't really need to sleep, but did try to keep in touch with that small part of her that was sort of human by keeping up with human behavior patterns. Sleeping was one of those things humans just seemed to need to do on a regular basis, so she generally tried to. She would admit, if pressed on the matter, that sometimes the temptation to spend the night up with a new book instead of sleeping was just too strong to resist. Sometimes, she just chose to not let the rules of humanity apply to her.
LIke the rules about Time and Space. One of the many things she had inherited from her grandfather. After all, Death always had to be on time. There was no TAKE A NUMBER AND I'LL GET AROUND TO YOU. It just wasn't done. So it was exactly at midnight that Susan walked through the front door of the bar called, amusingly, Limbo. Not it should be noted, opened the door and walked in. Walked through the door. Another one of those little abilities she had inherited. Closed, even locked, doors would not prevent Death's entry. Given the name of who she had come to meet, and what she felt as she approached the bar, let alone since she had arrived in Preya, it seemed appropriate to let more than a little of Susan Death, as she was occasionally known back on Discworld, show through. Her smile was thin, a bit prim, as she walked toward the owner of the bar.