Name: Brock Rumlow
Nickname(s): Crossbones, Mr Bone.
Age: 35
DOB: 30 October
Occupation: HYDRA agent, SHIELD agent, mercenary
Allies: STRIKE team Alpha, the Asset, HYDRA
Enemies: Captain America, Black Widow, Avengers
Skills: knife mastery, master marksman, master combatant, master spy, master tactician
Background:
Young Brock Rumlow was an angry child. He didnât have a father and could barely count the woman who birthed him as a mother. She didnât love him as much as she loved the substances that let her escape reality, though she did at least put forth the attempt to put a roof over his head. He went to bed hungry as often as not and grew to resent a lack of a proper childhood. Never having friends or toys or even clothes that fit. He hated that he was helpless to do the things he saw in snippets of shows on displays showing families that smiled and were happy together. It was no wonder he wanted to fix the world when he didnât have what others did.
He ended up getting in trouble as a child and a teenager. A lot. Enough so that eventually he got caught and sent to prison. HYDRA had agents everywhere and one saw potential in the young boy already being called Crossbones by others. Young Brock was angry and prickly, covered in sharp edges that cut indiscriminately, but he was a smart boy. His amber eyes never settled. Always watching everything around him. Ready to act at a momentâs notice.
When brock was released, HYDRA welcomed him with open arms. They gave him a sense of purpose. A chance. A goal. Make the world a better place. He spent the rest of his youth learning, but it was the assassin that arrested his attention. Huge and terrifying with icy blue eyes and long dark hair. Brock saw the perfect soldier and he wanted to be that. He tore himself to pieces to get where he did. Lived and breathed HYDRAâs goals.
And he was disappointed to learn that the asset wasnât some perfect soldier. He was barely more than an automaton. A blank slate that cared nothing for any of them and only knew the mission. But despite that, Brock didnât understand. Didnât realize what it meant that the winter soldier knew nothing. Not until the day that things went so horribly wrong.
Watching the asset scream while he was electrocuted made Brock sick, but by this time it was too late. He was HYDRA. He knew what it meant to turn your back on the organization that had nurtured him. He had killed traitors himself. So, he kept his head down and tried to believe he was doing the right thing.
And then, HYDRA tried to kill him.














