1964-02-12 - Should've Left it to Spiderman
Summary: Something is terribly wrong at the Museum of Natural History.
Related: Follow the Leader
Theme Song: None
tigra betty leader 


A police perimeter has been set around the Museum of Natural History, complete with yellow police tape cautioning would-be entrants into he space. Police vehicles line the roadside, and a crowd has easily come to gather and gawk at whatever seems to be taking place at the museum itself. A green bubble encases the building, wholly inescapable to those trying to get in or out. Yet, from the looks of it, no one is actually attempting to leave at this time.

The police lieutenant monitoring the scene lingers behind the tape, directing people to various locations. Outside the bubble, but inside the perimeter, ten figures—all with glowing green eyes, pale skin, and nearly vacant expressions, have various weaponry. Each of the figures, almost like mannequins fails to respond to the scene in a way deemed remotely appropriate or normal. In fact, the voice of the lieutenant through the amplifier receives little reaction, "Drop your weapons and surrender! We will be entering the museum, and we will not hesitate to shoot."

*

It was impossible to miss that Something was Going On from where Tigra was, and a ruckus like this certainly was something she should investigate. She's hurried to the scene, and approaches it slowly, looking at the green bubble uncertainly. What the hell is that? Attention is drawn to the figures confronted by the police, and she frowns and moves closer, trying to get a better look, or maybe catch a bit of their scent. "What's going on here?" she asks a police officer not far from her.

*

The officer glances towards her just to do a double take with widening eyes. "Uh…" he isn't sure he's supposed to update the public, yet he can't quite help himself: "Well," his throat clears, "just a stand off." He motions towards one of the people in front of the bubble, "That one is the museum curator. We have no idea what's going on, ma'am, but the museum opened until a good twenty minutes ago when…well…" he looks towards the bubble, "that happened." His lips purse. "We need the people to stand down so we can see what's going on, but no one is even talking to us—"

*

Tigra flashes him a quick grin at his widening eyes. That's always satisfying. The grin fades as she gets serious again, looking at the people, and the globe, tail twitching. She knows she's not the best hero for something like this. Big glowly energy dome thing? Strange science or magic, maybe. Way out of her league. She's tough, but not strong enough to really pound through something like that, she expects. She's usually more of a scrapper. Well, as that thought goes through her mind, she smiles. "Thank you for your asistance, officer," she says, absently noting his badge number.

So the immediate concern is the armed…people there. She crouches down briefly and then leaps up, bouncing onto the top of a police cruiser, then to another near the lieutenant in charge. "Keep your men back, please," she tells him, before jumping again, landing in a crouch in front of the curator, and then lashing out to try to grab his weapon.

*

The movement has the lieutenant jumping back and several officers follow suit. Some take aim at Tigra, but the one she's just spoken to, orders loudly, "STAND DOWN, men! Do not shoot!" Yet as the instructions happen, at least one itchy trigger finger fires. Thanks to Tigra's movements, however, she acrobats away from him.

The people in front of the bubble however, open fire, with several shooting bullets on mass towards Tigra. Taking out the ten in front is imminently important.

*

Now is that anyway to treat a busybody sticking her nose in poli—er, a concerned citizen attempting to assist the authorities? Fortunately Tigra's an agile feline, difficult to hit even when one's not surprised. She yelps as the people she thought weren't responsive turn out to be very responsive indeed. "No need for that, folks," she says, flipping away from one burst. "Just wanna talk," she says, summersaulting closer. "Let's not do that with our hands full." Striped limps flash as she grabs for weapons, intending to toss any retrieved towards the police.

*

The figure in the centre of the tenthe curator of the museumwith his eyes still reflecting that odd green, a hue matched by the bubble, takes a single step forward. But the moves from Tigra actually disarm the most of the figures easily enough. One of the mannequins fires towards Tigra, unloading several bullets into the air as he does so.

"No talk. Bring us Bruce Banner."

*

She was juuuust starting to think she had things under control when one of those shots grazes her, adding a red stripe along her flank to her black ones, and she yowls, more in surprise than pain. "Drop the guns and we'll talk," she says, spinning on the ball of a foot, and then leaping hard for the one who shot her, intending to tackle him in the chest, and then bounce off to another one. "Banner doesn't exactly go where he doesn't want to."

*

In unison, the guns are dropped, as if the assailants are of one mind. "Get us Bruce Banner," they repeat at the same time. Their eyes remain detached. "Banner will want to come." With each of the assailants disarmed, the police run forward to make arrests.

It's not until all ten are in handcuffs that movement on the other side of the bubble should draw attention. A dark haired woman, Elizabeth Ross, treads out of the building with another four mannequins representing her would-be escorts. Betty runs to the edge of the bubble, breaking free, albeit momentarily from her captors. She bangs on the bubble only to find it solid, granting an echoey knock as her hand beats against its surface, "Help!!! My name is Elizabeth Ross, I'm being held—" but the words are cut off as her captors crowd her once more.

The now-handcuffed former assailants, assert, "Tell Banner about Doctor Ross."

*

Well. that'll show you. Sometimes just asking nice will get people to do what you want. She kicks guns away from the strange people, and then steps out of the way of the police. Tigra watches the woman on the other side of the sphere approach, and then hurries to the sphere herself, taking a whack and then a slash at it, not expecting to get anywhere with either attempt. "We'll get you out!" she tells the woman, before taking a step back and frowning at the assailants. "Who are you? What's this about? I need to be able to tell him something more."

*

No response comes to Tigra's questions, instead the police draw the assailants back to their cars before aiming to resolve the bubble-problem, yet just as all are being stuffed into cars, they call out, in unison, from different directions, "I am the Leader." And with those words spoken, each of the former assailants' eyes change — back to regular colours, no longer green. One of them trembles, "Wait… what's going on? Why — " but the fellow is shoved into the car. It's possible there's going to be a lot of explaining to do.

*

Okay, that's not at -all- creepy or anything. Tigra's tail poofles up a little at the simultaneous call out, and she turns about, seeing the people speaking in unison. She takes a deep breath as they seem to return to normal. "Oh, boy," she says quietly. Now to try to find Banner and hope he's in a listening sort of mood. Maybe she should've left this one to Spider-Man.

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