Party people

As the party went on, Okisato found himself face-to-face with Jern. "So do you want a rematch?"

Jern shuffled awkwardly before extending his hand. "Sorry bout not shaking at the start of the round."

"What brought this change about?" Okisato asked as he shook Jern's hand.

"Don't get me wrong, I still hate you. But seeing what that Chinese girl did... Made me feel like I at least needed to set things right on that front."

"Nå, bedre sent end aldrig [Well, better late than never]."

Jern froze in shock. "Hold on, you speak Danish!?"

"Ja, jeg er ret flydende i det [Yes, I'm pretty fluent in it]."

Jern stood in shock for a few seconds more before smiling. "Åh, det ændrer tingene. Gæt på, at du ikke er så slem alligevel [Oh, that changes things. Guess you're not that bad after all]."

As the two began chatting in Danish, Xiu watched the two from afar. "Tch, damn Danish bloke. Maybe we'll get the chance to crush Denmark," she thought as she slipped off her shoes and stared at her now blue feet.

The dye from the blueberry juice really was something else, and would require an hour of soaking and scrubbing in the tub to remove. At the very least, it wasn't harmful in the slightest, just very sticky and blue.

"Ah, Unnur's mad. Unnur doesn't like being sticky and blue," Unnur frowned as she trudged over.

"You're the one that challenge me and lost. DEAL WITH IT! I'M YOUR QUEEN!" a pink-haired girl cackled.

The girl was Iceland's top female chess player, Sigríður Norðdahl. Flanking her were the other members of Iceland's women's team. The sporty Hólmfríður Scheving, the nerdy Hrafnhildur Löve, and the eccentric Björk Brjánsson. All 5 of the women were eccentric, but Björk took the cake for being the most eccentric. Sporting all white attire and spiky purple hair, one might think she was a mad scientist, but she was actually a chef. Albeit, the culinary equivalent of a mad scientist.

"UNNUR! I must lick you, FOR COOKING! I MUST KNOW THE TASTE OF THE JUICE YOU'VE BEEN DRENCHED IN!" Björk shouted as she leaped towards Unnur.

"AAHHH! SAVE UNNUR!" Unnur cried as Björk latched onto her.

"We could just have her lose and get dunked," Hrafnhildur shrugged as she stroked her curly purple hair.

Hólmfríður smirked and ran her hands along her bobbed pink and purple hair. "Not on your life! A villainess must always prolong suffering."

"Then you're suffering next, cuz I challenge you."

As the two made their way to the tank, they noticed an altercation occurring between 6 girls.

"Huh!? The hell do you mean I sucked? I haven't been anyone's partner for this shit!" a tan-skinned girl who looked and sounded nearly identical to Fifi snarled.

"Please, I saw you up there with Iori the bitch. You're a friend of her, you're an enemy of me," a bespectacled girl with shoulder-length pink hair snarled.

"But Filipa was in the bathroom over there the whole time!" a tan-skinned girl with short green hair frowned as she pointed towards the ballroom's exclusive bathrooms.

"Banani doesn't believe it. You are just Fifi with spray tan and a wardrobe change!" a bald and browless girl with a banana tattooed on her cheek pouted as she pointed at Filipa.

"Uh oh, she's gonna blow," a girl with multicolored yellow and red dreadlocks thought as Filipa began to grit her teeth in fury.

Filipa Barbosa was a Brazilian DSPCM infamous for being mistaken for Fifi. Aside from looking nearly identical to her, she also sounded similar and even had the same rating of 2400 and international master title. More mysteriously, the two had never been seen together in the same place at the same time, only furthering conspiracy theories that they were actually just one person.

The green-haired girl and girl with dreadlocks were Filipa's teammates, Yara Santos and Rita Jácome. Yara was your typical jock, but with a talent for chess, while Rita was a chill girl, and often the voice of reason alongside Inori on the Brazilian team.

As for the other three, the pink haired girl was Nino Natsvlishvili, a Georgian blogger who had an ongoing feud with Iori, stemming from a comments war. Her bald compatriot was Banani Nakani, her partner in crime as well as a master stock trader. She was so good, she had already made a fortune 100 times over and was now one of the top 5 richest people in the world.

The final girl was a quiet girl with short orange and purple hair that obscured her left eye, named Tinatiin Okruashvili. She often found herself dragged along by the other two, and often getting blamed for their mischief. However, she was one that craved attention, no matter if it was positive or negative, though lacked the courage to do anything noteworthy to stand out. Banani and Nino took note of this, and decided to foist all the blame for their antics on her.

"Alright, what's the problem?" a bespectacled girl with short green hair glared as she approached the group alongside a woman with a turquoise bob.

The two were Nestan-Darejan Gvenetadze and Gurandukht Iashvili, member of Georgia's women's team like Banani, Nino, and Tinatin.

"Tinatin did it!" Banani and Nino sneered as they pointed at Tinatin.

Gurandukht let out a sigh and cracked her knuckles. "HOW CHILDISH CAN YOU TWO BE!?" she fumed as she smacked Banani and Nino on the head.

"OW! BANAI'S BALD, YOU IDIOT!" Banani fumed as she massaged the lump on her head.

"Then stop bullying Tinatin and I'll stop shaving your head each day as punishment."

"N- No... BANANI DOESN'T WANT TO BE BALD ANY LONGER!" Banani giddily cried as her face went flush red.

Contrary to her words, Banani was a masochist, and loved it when girls like Gurandukht punished her via physical means such as spanking, slapping, smacking, or forcefully shaving and waxing her head each morning.

"Mommy Gurandukht, DOMINATE BANANI, BITCH!" Banani cried as Gurandukht slammed her sneaker down atop Banani's bald head, sending her to the ground.

"Oi, first off I'm 21, and you're 23, so don't even THINK about calling me "mommy". And second, თქვენ აბუზღუნებთ თინათინს მხოლოდ ჩემს მიერ დასჯის საბოლოო მიზნით, ისევ, მე დავფარავ თქვენი კანის თითოეულ სანტიმეტრს ყველაზე ვულგარული ტატუებით, რაც კი შეგიძლიათ წარმოიდგინოთ [YOU BULLY TINATIN AGAIN WITH THE SOLE PURPOSE OF BEING PUNISHED BY ME, AGAIN, I'LL COVER EVERY INCH OF YOUR SKIN WITH THE MOST VULGAR TATTOOS IMAGINABLE]!"

Banani let out a muffled moan as blood gushed out of her nose and began to pool around her head. Nestan-Darejan facepalmed. While Gurandukht was an upstanding woman, she was also an idiot.

"All you're gonna do is make her want to bully Tinatin even more if you promise to do shit like that to her," she sighed as she stared down Nino.

Unlike Banani, Nino's reason for bullying Tinatin was truly out of malice. Nino was not a kind girl, in fact she was the opposite. She was a flamer and manipulator. Day in and day out, she'd target people online and bully them, all for amusement and self-gratification. But when she was confronted for her actions, that's when the true demon arose. Nino was a psychopath, and if any incurred her wrath, she'd utilize her IQ to find a way to eliminate them. Banani was completely oblivious to this, making her the perfect target for Nino to partner up with and become financially solvent thanks to.

But before the two could exchange words, a third party arrived.

"Hey, could you all not hold up the line? We wanna dunk one of our own in the tank," an orange-haired girl covered in paint frowned.

"Must it always be me that becomes the subject of your art projects, Sjoukje?" a woman with short blue hair sighed.

"You think I'd allow her to paint me?" a haughty blonde-haired girl huffed.

"Nel, you don't mind, right?" the blue-haired girl asked as she turned to face a purple-haired girl in a beanie.

"Um, yeah. Like, chillin' all blue, sounds groove," the purple-haired girl grinned.

These women all hailed from the Dutch women's team. Sjoukje Weenix, the orange-haired girl, was a famous artist who often subject her teammate, the blue-haired Mirjam Van der Veen, to her various art projects. The blode-haired and haughty Henrika Van Pelt was often the team leader, with the purple-haired Nel Zwaan, being the free spirit who did whatever. Though despite the hierarchy, the Dutch team as a whole was almost completely even in rating with the highest rated on the team, Mirjam, being 2424, and the lowest, Nel, being 2420. The others were 2423, 2422, and 2421, respectively, giving the team an average rating of 2422. All were even in strength too, but naturally each had different playing styles.

Lieke clutched her head as she straggled to catch up with everyone. While she had recovered enough from the Rasputin incident to at least participate in round 6 of the tournament, she would occasionally have migraines which she never had before. This was true for some of the other players involved as well. As soon as she joined up with everyone, airhorns suddenly went off.

"HEY! What's with the hold-up? Do you all wanna... BE PART OF THE NEXT DJ CHALLENGE!?" D.R. Passant grinned.