[center][h1]Swarm: Rocker Warehouse[/h1][/center]

     His steps were methodical, rhythmic and [i]relentless[/i]. His purpose; simple. He needed a platform of leadership. A group of followers that would fear him more than the orders he gave. What better place to go than to a group already broken in to leadership by power and intimidation? He'd heard of their activities and was not impressed. They were little more than a joke to the criminal underworld. He would change all that shortly. He was Damien and they were Swarm. 
     
     The door, though locked, lasted only a few moments to Damien's telekinetic force. It swung open as Damien stepped in nonchalantly. His mask hid his face from view, but it did not prevent him from smoking his cigarette through the mouth hole. He wore a fancy black suit to complete his non-traditional ensemble. He turned his head slowly from left to right, sizing up the place as if it were a house for sale. The gang members were like decorations and furniture of his new home. They stared back in shock, but quickly got to their feet in anger, "Who was this guy and who did he think he was?" They would soon find out.
     
     Before they had a chance to shoot or speak Damien raised a desk into the air with his mind. It weighed a little more than 200 pounds. At 50 mph it was a deadly weapon. He launched it across the room against a wall and it splintered into a thousand pieces with a loud crash. Then he lifted papers, dust, dirt and particles of all kinds into the air with his hands raised upward. They slowly started to spin around him in a whirling motion. He walked forward with a purpose into to the very middle of the warehouse. Within a few seconds the objects were swirling like a miniature tornado. Then he spoke with an amplified voice from the center of the whirling vortex,[color=red]"There is a new master in command, now. Submit or [i]perish[/i]!"[/color] [@Eklispe]