<em><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 14pt;">Steve Rodgers</span>- </em>Just another guy from Brooklyn<hr/><br/>Steve entered his new room with an appreciate glance, the bare bones furnished room was nice, it beat every other place he had lived in for the last couple of years. He moved around, unpacking the scarce contents of his duffel bag before he opened the letter he had collected from the mail box. He had not even been to his first class and he was already in a team and had a meeting with a student coordinator. His eyes moved to the shield and the blue suit that hung in his closet, debating wearing it but instead opted to walk towards the summons in his school uniform.<br/><br/>While he walked towards the office of the person codenamed "Storm" he thought about the recruiter who had made all this happen for him and then the sudden cut of communication with the man. His thoughts lingered on his childhood, the drastic change in his physique and the training regiment he had established for himself.<br/><br/>Steve had walked blindly for so long he had walked the entire hallway of the floor he was supposed to be on more than five times before he realized it was a loop and he had passed the office he was supposed to go into a few times. He stopped at the door, knocked three times exactly before tilting his head into the open door and caught sight of two costume clad ladies, one he swore he had seen in the papers before and the other earlier at the scuffle by the yogurt stand.<br/><strong>"Hello, I'm Steve Rodgers. Is this the Student Coordinator's office?" </strong><br/>He asked as he pulled the letter neatly form his uniform pocket to confirm it himself, standing at the imaginary barrier right outside of the office waiting for his invitation in.