[h2][color=red][b][center]CAPTAIN AMERICA[/center][/b][/color][/h2]  [center][color=red]SHEILD safehouse, Brooklyn New York[/color][/center][hr]

The T.V was buzzing in the background.

It was a strange thought to him. They had once been rare, solely the domain of those who could truly afford them. Now, though, now they were as commonplace as coffee. Neatly replacing the radio, at least in most things. They were like automobiles in that sense, Steve guessed.  Time and advancement made both an expected commonality. And he had practically skipped over the development of both. 

The shield sparked off the brick as it bounced around the walls. Each hit gave out a ringing sort of noise. Not the hard clang you’d expect out of metal. But this wasn’t any ordinary thing. The vibranium shield darted about like some sort of demented boomerang, chipped edges off the bricks it hit before it soared back to him. With an ease borne of bone-deep experience—and the bruises from failure—Steve caught his shield with one hand. 

He felt a true smile come onto his face when he looked at it. Out of everything that could’ve lasted the test of time, he wasn’t surprised that the shield made it. Himself, on the other hand…well, he was sure SHIELD’S doctors and scientists were puzzling over that. Like he admittedly was. All that time beneath the ice, and the world still turned. He just had to figure out how to catch up.

Maybe the director's invitation was the right thing…

He looked up to the T.V again, that marvel of technology quietly delighting him. He had grasped the basics on how to operate it, and had been switching the…channels? Yes, the channels at random. Letting it play for a bit before moving on. His smile flickered when he saw what was on. He didn’t mind the news. Found it rather important, actually. Practically an institution. But he was getting used to the future, and the…family? Superhero team? 

The group. The group that was on WHIH Newsfront was, so far, a rather excellent symbol for the sheer oddity of this new age he found himself in.  

The Fantastic Four was an interesting name, but he’s heard worse. The people in it, though…apparent super genius who, in part, reminded him of Howard Stark. If a lot more disheveled. Doctor Storm, cold and curt, if perhaps a little correct. Her brother, he guessed, Johnny was reminding him of certain men he met on the frontlines, in a way he wasn’t sure was good. And then this Ben fellow…

Well. He apparently liked being called ‘The Thing.’ That said enough, Steve figured. 

He had been only half listening to the broadcast, focused as he was on his shield and devouring some of the more current date history. They were a strange bunch. More like celebrities than superheroes. Flashy entrance. Bright, big story that everyone seemed ready to believe. Set themselves up neatly with some good business moves. Strange folk. But they were downright cuddly compared to some of the other things he’s learned.

[i]Mutants.[/i] The word was incredibly loaded, from what he could gather. Their treatment, the way not only people, but the [i]government[/i] handled them was just beyond abhorrent. Power could be dangerous. He wasn’t going to deny that. Not with what Schmidt had done with his. But this? This heavy-handed treatment of the government's people? 

He had to take a moment when he had caught up on some current affairs. He had been working through the decades, but he had gotten too curious about modern day affairs. It was just…Well, he half-expected some people to start goose-stepping whilst they screamed out their hate. There were ways to deal with the situation, and this wasn’t it. He was still trying to wrap his head around it.

Steve turned his gaze to the T.V again, catching the last words the host, Christine, had managed to get off before the Fantastic Four abruptly vacated their seats.

[i]"Yes, well, we hope you'll come back soon and--...I'm sorry, we've got a breaking news report. Sources are reporting an explosion and multiple gunshots here in downtown Manhattan. Police are attempting to cordon off the area, but eyewitnesses claim a super-human is on the scene, and--...Doctor Richards? Where are you going?"[/i]

Steve frowned at the words, his shield heavy in his hand. That wasn’t too far off. He looked down, bringing his other hand up to hold his shield in two hands. He had just cleaned it, so the vibranium glinted in the light of the safehouse. He was still getting his bearings in this strange world. SHIELD wanted him to stay put until they figured some things out. Keep an eye on him. He couldn’t quite blame them. 

But people were being hurt. And he was close by. 

Decision made, Steve turned around and began walking towards the safehouse's bedroom. He had left his uniform there. If he was going to do anything, it’d best be with that on. The press conference would have to wait, cameras and questions and all those little things. 

He had his duty to perform.