<div class="floatright">(http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b52/jotunusmc/36827_421832359861_518524861_4822950_3819136_n.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Taras Ivan Markovski<br/><strong>Title:</strong>Co-Leader / The Muscle<br/><strong>Location:</strong>In the open Dining Room<br/><strong>Tags:</strong>Claire, Adriano, Allison<br/><hr/><br/><div style="text-align: justify;">     Sizzling. The evening in general, the meat on the grill, his mind after contemplating Adriano's interest in Allison, and of course - the blood in his veins whenever Claire was in his immediate vicinity. The alcohol probably only intensified the feeling as she drew close. His eyes quickly peeled away from the departing black-market dealer and his "sibling". That jealousy faded drastically when Claire came around, and he managed a weak smile - which was a decent show of emotion for the stone-cold Taras. <br/><br/>    It was interesting, the two women of the crew he was most attracted to were the exact two that he feared to draw into the darker parts of his life; but then, perhaps that was precisely why he feared for their well being more than the rest of the crew. He just cared about them both too much to put his desires in front of there well being... <em>most</em> of the time. When alcohol was involved, it was an entirely different story - and the dampened jealousy over Allison was testament to that. <br/><br/>    Claire's happy-go-lucky mood drew him out of those deeper thoughts and he couldn't help but chuckle as she nabbed a morsel from his plate, watching it get the best of her. It truly was. The best of her, that is. As far as Taras saw things, Claire's fun loving attitude was the primary component to her personality that he gravitated towards. She seemed to always know how to let loose and leave her worries aside - something Taras could rarely do, and never well. The only occasions when he let loose and ignored consequences were when he was down right pissed off... and also when he was drinking. So now was about the best time Claire could approach him - as even in the brief time the crew had been assembling he had already killed half his bottle of Stoli.<br/><br/>    <strong>"Hey Claire."</strong> he offered, more confident than he normally would have been around her. Well, he always gave a show of confidence most of the time, but it wasn't often that display was authentic. <strong>"Probably a good bit of both."</strong> He answered her with a better smile than he'd weakly given before - his confidence clearly growing as his body continued to soak up that alcohol. <strong>"She stole my job."</strong> He said with no conviction at all. Everyone knew Liza; and they knew she had no problems intruding or changing people's plans to fit her own view of things - which probably had more pros to it than it did cons.<br/><br/>     His crush then motioned towards the tables, and he was quick to accept the offer to be the first one to sit down with her in tow. They might get a quick moment of time together before everyone else piled in around them. He picked a seat somewhere near the middle of the table. Since Chris wasn't here, he'd probably be the one speaking and making the toast once everyone gathered around and was ready to eat. He didn't like running the show, unless it was race day of course.<br/><br/>      Taras wasn't the talkative type, nor did he enjoy a bunch of attention... but when it came to racing cars and the crew's reputation, he was a fierce and bold leader - much the same way we went about driving his car. Saturday morning, the crew would likely get an extra dose of Taras' muscle. Not the muscles of his body, but the muscle of his influence. He'd make sure that everyone was set and completely ready for the race. The crew - while individually motivated in races - frequently worked together to get the best of the rest of the racers. They would draft each other, block out other racers, among other strategies that didn't break the rules. That was one of the reasons Taras was usually running his firebird or some other muscle car. New racers, exotic punks, and the Mafia drivers didn't usually like to risk roughing up their aluminum and carbon fiber rides against the pure steel of his 60's classic. So Taras would generally take the lead when it came to talking race strategy and making sure everyone understood it. That was the biggest part of being in the crew - looking our for each other. Race day was no exemption from this rule, and they all knew that. It didn't, however, stop Taras from being a slight annoyance those days as he made his checks. Though, after being used to the way Liza was, Taras being bossy was probably mild. <br/><br/>     As soon as Claire had time to catch up and sit down he started to make conversation. <strong>"How've you been Claire? I'm glad you're here. We don't see very much of you these days."</strong> He's started off general, and then actually shared a bit of his feelings - which was probably some of the alcohol speaking for him... He must have realized it however, because he was quick to put 'we' in the very next sentence to mask that it was really his personal thought. After those words he took a large bite of meat, trying his best not to look like a lion ripping apart a carcass.<br/></div>