Learning wasn't anything new to Steve. He'd always been a sponge for knowledge, and although it hadn't been tested, he was pretty sure the serum had boosted his mental capacity, at least a little, as well as his physical abilities. He remembered things more easily, picked them up more quickly even than he had before, and he hadn't been a slouch even when he was younger.
Still, having almost seventy years' worth of knowledge that he needed to learn meant even his considerable mental faculties had a hard time cramming everything he needed into his head and retaining said knowledge. He would quickly get overwhelmed as he went deeper down the rabbit hole (a reference he actually understood, although he'd learned that there were several adaptations to the classic children's story in the intervening years), and it made him frustrated, which wasn't conducive to learning. It might not be so bad, except he knew everything he was trying to learn was second-nature to those around him, who had either been there at the start of all the technology and advancements, or had grown up taking it all for granted. He'd been dropped in the middle of the sea, and some days - a lot of days, truthfully - it felt like all he could do just to keep his head above water.
He kept reminding himself it had only been a month since he'd crashed a plane into the ocean and thought he was going to die in the beginning of 1945. He'd closed his eyes to the cold, and when he'd - miraculously - opened them again, he quickly learned that it was the spring of 2011, the whole world had continued on, and he didn't have a place in it anymore. As a legend, maybe even an icon, but not as a flesh-and-blood person. SHIELD had had to get him new ID just to make him "legitimate." They even gave him a stipend of spending money, ostensibly as "backpay" from the military, but he wasn't stupid; soldiers MIA didn't get paid, it was probably Fury's way of lengthening Steve's leash while simultaneously making it even tighter.
All in all, he was not in a great headspace a lot of the time. But he was trying. There wasn't much else he could do. So he studied, and when that got to be too much, he went out and wandered. The city was still the same New York he'd grown up in, but also vastly different. Some days he hated all the changes, but sometimes, like today, he almost relished them. If the city could move forward and still retain a core piece of itself, then so could he.
That was the mindset he was in when he stumbled across a coffee shop during a walk. The awning and sign outside were simple but bright and inviting. Deciding on a whim why the hell not?, Steve went in, looking around curiously at the decor as he moved into the line. It was a really nice cafe, and Steve hoped their aliments matched.
When the barista greeted him cheerfully in what sounded like a genuine Southern accent, Steve didn't even try to suppress a smile in return. "I'll tell ya what. I'll take two blueberry pies, and..." he shrugged with an 'aww, shucks' grin, as Bucky used to call it. "I'm not well-versed in coffees, so maybe just a recommendation for what goes good with the pie?"
no subject
Still, having almost seventy years' worth of knowledge that he needed to learn meant even his considerable mental faculties had a hard time cramming everything he needed into his head and retaining said knowledge. He would quickly get overwhelmed as he went deeper down the rabbit hole (a reference he actually understood, although he'd learned that there were several adaptations to the classic children's story in the intervening years), and it made him frustrated, which wasn't conducive to learning. It might not be so bad, except he knew everything he was trying to learn was second-nature to those around him, who had either been there at the start of all the technology and advancements, or had grown up taking it all for granted. He'd been dropped in the middle of the sea, and some days - a lot of days, truthfully - it felt like all he could do just to keep his head above water.
He kept reminding himself it had only been a month since he'd crashed a plane into the ocean and thought he was going to die in the beginning of 1945. He'd closed his eyes to the cold, and when he'd - miraculously - opened them again, he quickly learned that it was the spring of 2011, the whole world had continued on, and he didn't have a place in it anymore. As a legend, maybe even an icon, but not as a flesh-and-blood person. SHIELD had had to get him new ID just to make him "legitimate." They even gave him a stipend of spending money, ostensibly as "backpay" from the military, but he wasn't stupid; soldiers MIA didn't get paid, it was probably Fury's way of lengthening Steve's leash while simultaneously making it even tighter.
All in all, he was not in a great headspace a lot of the time. But he was trying. There wasn't much else he could do. So he studied, and when that got to be too much, he went out and wandered. The city was still the same New York he'd grown up in, but also vastly different. Some days he hated all the changes, but sometimes, like today, he almost relished them. If the city could move forward and still retain a core piece of itself, then so could he.
That was the mindset he was in when he stumbled across a coffee shop during a walk. The awning and sign outside were simple but bright and inviting. Deciding on a whim why the hell not?, Steve went in, looking around curiously at the decor as he moved into the line. It was a really nice cafe, and Steve hoped their aliments matched.
When the barista greeted him cheerfully in what sounded like a genuine Southern accent, Steve didn't even try to suppress a smile in return. "I'll tell ya what. I'll take two blueberry pies, and..." he shrugged with an 'aww, shucks' grin, as Bucky used to call it. "I'm not well-versed in coffees, so maybe just a recommendation for what goes good with the pie?"