[center][h1]Marc Bolheim[/h1][/center]

Marc stared through the hedgerow as he walked down the street, he decided to walk when he turned and saw a car. A loud, boisterous machine that it is, he didn't care that much for lorries, the only upside to him was that they didn't have to sleep like horses. They still had to eat, just fuel, not food. He waved at the car.

Once he got to the property, he smiled as he stared at the grounds, it was far more extravagant than his home, and maybe twice the size. He turned back towards the car and wondered who it was. He decided he would probably be at the door while the car was coming closer. He took a step through the footpath and headed towards the house. Over the bridge, he went towards the door, the water below him soothing him. He had been stressed some because of his newfound job, and his mother is asking him for a grandchild. But that would come later, he would tell her. Now it was time for him to enjoy his life. 

He stiffened himself up a bit, wiping off his jacket, he had dressed as he had for work, it would work for a party as well. A nice suit, he looked like his father, he realized. A man who dressed nicely, generally with some form of nice large hat, which he didn't have, he was naked in that sense. The soles of his shoes were treading on the ground, and then up the few steps to the door. The sound of his souls blanked out of existence by that damned car somewhere behind him. 

He heard shouting, odd to hear before a party of the world's most awesome and extraordinary men he had thought to himself, was it this famed sister he had heard of, a lover, a wife. He would shrug, he figured that the home life was similar to his bar life, yelling and fights, knowing from the experience of bailing several friends out after the fact. 

His hand raised and took the knocker as he hit it against itself several times, "It is me, Marc!" he exclaimed as he waited for his friend or a maid to open the door. "Open up; you had better not have started without me!"