'BLUE MOON ON THE RISE'

Thanks to all the reviewers! That really got me happy, so I decided to get to work on this chappie early!

I am including a OC here that is a tribute to a character in an RPG that is on a forum H4WX and me are members of (You are the only one who will get the joke, H4WX, well, maybe Tyranic Marta, but he doesn't like SB fanfictions)

Now to answer questions from all my wonderful reviewers.

Icearrows: Yup, this will be a decent-sized fic, but the early chapters will revolve around Dennis and his group of 'friends' SB will be featured prominently though.

Dennis glanced around the bar.

Yellow light filled the room with a homey glow, well, homey for people like Dennis, it was built pretty much like the Thug Tug, several Harleys where parked out back. A pool table sat in the corner of the room, several guys hitting the billiards like there was no tomorrow.

A figure, a medium-sized grouper entered the bar, this one wore a loose aviator's jacket over fractured camo, combat boots of a boring brown and a pair of drab grey pants, filled with pockets, filled to the brim.

Dennis nodded imperceptibly and removed his bandana, not much under it but what he had when all that business with the boot at shell city happened…

The Grouper came ambling over, hands in his pockets, sitting down, he fiddled with a small item around his neck, a shark tooth necklace.

"Bluemoon Peirce." Greeted Dennis, proffering his right hand. "Havn't seen you since…a while."

"Dennis." Nodded the Grouper. "I hear we have a mutual dislike for a certain someone."

"I'd say so, yes" said Dennis, neutrally.

Bluemoon leaned in "Cut the crap man, I got a new plan"

"Oh," said Dennis, smirking. "You mean that 'plan Z' bullshrimp you pulled didn't work?"

Bluemoon grinned sheepishly, not anything to scoff at when you're a fish with a mouth the size of a dinner plate.

"How was I supposed to know that miserable speck would hire you?"

Dennis glared at the fish, "just tell us what you got on the royal family."

Bluemoon tugged at the sharktooth necklace for a second "Alright." He pulled out a messy folder from his aviator's jacket and put down the list. "Neptune, then there's Mindy, that's his heir, Triton is the second kid, kind of distant so we take him out first, but keep a level head, lastly, we got Amphitrite, probably got to whack her and the big N at the same time."

Dennis was not liking this. "Listen, we gotta bide our time, Amphitrite is down with the flu I hear, slip something into her drinks…no more Amphitrite." We got to take out Mindy and triton after a helluva lot of thought though."

"Whatever." Said Bluemoon, "We know how to do this…just…there are some impatient elements in our 'group' if you get my meaning."

"All right," muttered Dennis. "Let's just meet up somewhere else next time, this is too public."

"Warehouse 346, by the docks"

~III~

In the pitch black warehouse, a singe orange light no bigger than a penny flared. A tendril of smoke reached for the ceiling.

"Put that out, idiot!" hissed a deeper voice, with an edge of malice to it.

A younger voice answered from the vicinity of the cigarette. "F**k you, poisonspikes."

The voice belonging to 'poisonspikes' hissed back. "If you don't put that out right now I will shove it up your-."

"shut up you two," Said a newer voice, this one a female's "I'm turning on the lights"

"Thank Neptune." Muttered the voice of the smoker.

"Don't you say that damnable name!" shouted the deep voice.

A clicking, unmistakable for anything but a weapon, sent a deep silence crashing down.

"Shut up." Said the voice of the one evidently holding the gun.

The lights turned on, or rather, the oil lamps. Revealing five fish.

A trout in a long trench coat puffing on a cigarette.

An almost fragile looking Dace hwith high-heeled boots and designer cloths.

A large stonefish in a Bulletproof vest and camo pants, glaring daggers at the smoker, who was showing him a certain digit on his right fin.

Bluemoon, snoozing in the corner, and a shadowy figure in long robes and a hood, pointing an M-4 assault rifle at the stonefish menacingly, the weapon had a silver cross emblazoned on it.

"Quelling this heresy that this 'king' spreads is the only thing that matters, not your petty arguments." Hissed the cowled figure, "I have sent for aid, we will get it" the cowl spoke in a voice that sounded somewhat like an Englishman.

The others looked skeptical, obviously not as ferverous as the Cowl. They did not say anything however, another pair of cowled figures walked in, the difference between them and the other, was that while the apparent leader of the robed group, the one with the rifle, had gold trim on the cloak and an ornate longsword sheathed at his side, these wore simply grey robes, and carried only daggers.

"Lord Purifier Marilius," greeted one in an accent that radiated southern hospitality.

The other , lower-ranking robe bowed at the apparent leader. "We live to serve my lord" this sounded a bit strange, as the voice sounded undoubtedly from the County Down.

The 'Lord Purifyier' hissed at the group of irregulars. "We will not waste time bickering amongst ourselves, I bid you good day…for now."

When the three robed figures had left, the stonefish glared at the Dace. "B*tch, those ones are trouble."

The Dace simply muttered something along the lines of 'get hooked' and stalked over to Bluemoon, who had slept through the entire thing.