Brock Rumlow

I'm comin' for you, Cap. | STRIKE Team leader. HYDRA Head. Crossbones. | #ɴᴇᴋʀᴏs | #Hexverse

[Brock Rumlow @OrderFromPain]

Bʀᴏᴄᴋ Rᴜᴍʟᴏᴡ
— ᴄʀᴏssʙᴏɴᴇs
— ᴀ ʜᴇᴀᴅ ᴏғ HYDRA
— 'ʏᴏᴜ sᴏɴ ᴏғ ᴀ ʙɪᴛᴄʜ' -- Cᴀᴘᴛᴀɪɴ Aᴍᴇʀɪᴄᴀ

[Brock Rumlow @OrderFromPain]

@transjbbarnes up bandaged fists.* Don't you dare bring your all, *he adds for good measure. Can't disobey him, surely. Maybe it'd overwrite any bullshit 'bones trains him with.

The first strike out goes wide, aimed to the shoulder, a jab towards his chest following up.*

[Brock Rumlow @OrderFromPain]

@transjbbarnes *Bring it, motherfucker. Rollins wants a good go at smashing out their teeth. Maybe they'll grow back. Bet the techs haven't studied that in depth. The only thing holding him back is the threat of Rumlow smashing his teeth out to replace them.* Right, *Rollins mutters, bringing –

[Brock Rumlow @OrderFromPain]

@HydraAndroid entrance concealed in the jagged rocks. The ass of a beast. "Any life signs?" he barked into his mic, moving into position, expecting the android ready and prepared.

[Brock Rumlow @OrderFromPain]

@HydraAndroid pistol. Stealth was boring, too dull for an executioner, but instinct prevailed. Theirs or not, a rogue agent or sniffing law-licker was better dispatched with a suppressed bullet than a pump of shells or spray from a rifle.

Point A sat near his chosen entry point, the back –

[Brock Rumlow @OrderFromPain]

@transjbbarnes tinge of nervousness, threatens to break out on his forehead as he turns sharp to the soldier.* You ready?

[Brock Rumlow @OrderFromPain]

@transjbbarnes *Freak. Machine. Insults poison the tip of his tongue; Rollins holds back, venom at bay, as he watches the asset out of the corner of his eye. His own warm-up consists of a few stretches, followed by slamming fists into the closest punchbag. A thin layer of sweat, gathered by a –

[Brock Rumlow @OrderFromPain]

@transjbbarnes *Door open, Rollins jerks his thumb to indicate the asset enter first.* Usual protocol, do whatever the fuck you've gotta to get ready for hand-to-hand. *Dismissing them with a wave of his hand, he sighs, hand raising to massage his forehead. He doesn't like this one bit.*

[Brock Rumlow @OrderFromPain]

@VindictiveGloom subtlety. "My wife's a goddess - the vengeful sort, very keen on spilling blood, guts, and whatever else a body can give 'er."

[Brock Rumlow @OrderFromPain]

@VindictiveGloom "Alcohol in a bullet wound," he echoed, with a chuckle. Not bad. "She the sort of bitch who doesn't listen to the boss without a bit of 'persuasion'?" It was borderline suggesting the man had to turn to torture to make himself seems boss-like. Sin would have approved of such –

[Brock Rumlow @OrderFromPain]

@VindictiveGloom "Wouldn't say 'much'," he shrugged - arrogance was key in keeping control, of keeping superiority. Too much bit you in the fucking ass, but it didn't matter. He was confident in himself, and confident there wasn't much Krasnov could teach him. A bit of narcissism hurt nobody. –

[Brock Rumlow @OrderFromPain]

@roguesoldat Sure. Here, *he says, lifting up a lighter, yet making no effort to bring it closer to his target. Let him get closer. Playing friendly gets boring real fucking fast. Impatience is a bitch.*

[Brock Rumlow @OrderFromPain]

@roguesoldat *Interesting response. From the box, he removes one cigarette, offering it out. This reaction to his presence has been underwhelming.* You like skulking dark alleys trying to befriend this shithole's feral cats?

[Brock Rumlow @OrderFromPain]

@roguesoldat that matter. Just another test. Test after test after test.*

[Brock Rumlow @OrderFromPain]

@roguesoldat *No response. Huh. He waits, but impatience is a bitch and he can't be fucked hanging around all day for the asshole to speak.* You want a cigarette or not? *his tone becomes more aggressive, though his body language is relaxed, waiting to open the box. It's not the cigarettes –

[Brock Rumlow @OrderFromPain]

@VindictiveGloom The teasing remark earned a scoff and an eye roll. "Yeah? You wish," he shot back, blowing smoke out of his mouth as he spoke. "What'd you do to her? My wife's a fan of 'tattooin'' people. Get a knife, dig deep enough to give 'em something to remember her by. If they live."

[Brock Rumlow @OrderFromPain]

@VindictiveGloom well as... others'. "You tell me about it."

[Brock Rumlow @OrderFromPain]

@VindictiveGloom all that bad. He still hated people, course. "I'll pass, not a fan of sisters. Too much fuckin' trouble, all the time." His own, as –

[Brock Rumlow @OrderFromPain]

@VindictiveGloom Lighting up Krasnov's cigarette, he pulled the lighter back and slipped it into his pocket. "Compare notes? Huh," he chuckled. This wasn't –