There are things you need to know before you read this story. And this will [partially] be using the Artestella artbook. Partially.

Explanation for Earthlings-

One, this is NOT Earth and the laws of gravity and all of that stuff don't apply. Second, the officials of this world [I'll give it a name later] are ranked by what value their card is ie. 8 of diamonds would be higher than a 7 of diamonds, but a 9 of hearts and a 9 of clubs would be of equal value. There is only one superior, the president, and he lives forever; he also chooses who gets what card. End.

xXx

Matthew was inducted a year earlier than Alfred, making the latter very jealous of his older brother. Even if he had been inducted as a lower number card [which one, Alfred cared not to remember] it was still a great honor. "Don't worry, Al, you'll get in too! Just wait a little bit!"

Yah right. Matthew your such the optimist at times. Arthur would've loved that, he was always the one to become Alfred's opponent and for him, just knowing Alfred's jealousies at his older brother would've made him double over, laughing. Those damn Brits. Well, at least Arthur got the Queen of Spades, it really suited him.

His rage calming down, Alfred started to leaf through his mail. He pulled out the oddly-shaped manilla envelope from the stack and proceeded to rip it open, leaving shreds of manilla on the floor. A letter fell out with a little box, like the boxes you buy during Christmas to hold a gift card. He opened the plain box, and dropped it on the floor out of shock. Slowly, his mind registered that he should do something about this.

He cautiously approached the box and it's contents, his footsteps undetectable on the immaculate snow-white carpet.

Stop being a coward. It's not gonna blow up.

Alfred bent over and grabbed the letter, and the two cards that had fallen out of the box. He peeked at the cards face value, not really wanting to see what was there. Instead, he only saw one of the values and was filled with such an immense fear of it that he began to tremble and shake. He had heard of this card when he was little, the "legends" about this scarred him at the young age of four and was always in the back of his head.

He had never imagined that he would get such a card. They said that who ever got it would go crazy within the week, if not earlier. And he was holding that card in his hands.

The Joker. And the other one, which he had yet to flip over.

"Alfred, your a smart boy so I expect that I will be pleased with how you turn out; you'll please Papa , right?" It wouldn't be pleasing him if he went crazy and killed himself. . . Would it? Alfred shook his head and a sudden way to fix all of this became apparent, clear as the crystal star in his room.

All he had to do was give himself amnesia. And he remembered how to do it. Just do this, and this, combine that with this, and put it in this. . . .

It worked well enough, that the only things that he remembered when we woke up were his name, his face value [the cursed cards], and the letter he received. Well, also all that stuff that never leaves you, like math and science and how to ride a bike, but. . . . He brought the letter to his attention, unsealing it with the greatest of care and began to read it.

"Dear Alfred,

I am pleased to inform you that you have been chosen to join the Royal Counsel, as a Joker and as the King of Spades. I personally have taken an interest in your case, seeing as you not only have two cards, you have the Joker as one of them. I really hope you do not go insane, but seeing how smart you are that should be no problem. This letter is also to inform you that since you are the last member of this generation to be inducted, there will be a meeting of the Royal Counsel tomorrow at 10. I have also invited Matthew, even thought he is not a royal, but to congratulate you in being accepted.

The President."

Alfred smiled, and feeling tired after such an event, headed back to his bed and began to snooze away. The next morning he woke at precisely 9:30 and changed into his nicest suit, eating breakfast beforehand so he wouldn't get anything on his clothes. It was oddly silent in the Jones' residence without the normal Alfred and his memories, and that silence made the new Alfred smile like a feral cat. It was definitely better this way.

It was a long drive in his red mustang down to the Counsel, and it was one filled with eerie silence. He arrived about five minutes before it was supposed to start and he dashed up the steps in record time, passing secretaries and book keepers.

There was a group of people crowding the entrance, with a Swiss man arguing at an Italian for something obscure, a Japanese man talking calmly with a German about something, and Hungarian lady fawning over a little Liechtenstein girl. It looked like a dysfunctional family. In front of them, a Frenchman was harassing a familiar looking Englishman while an unsuccessful Canadian tried to stop the Frenchman, and a Russian was trying to persuade a certain Chinese man to do something.

Yup. Dysfunctional family time.

All of a sudden, some attendants gasped and bowed, everyone else's gazed followed the noise, to a familiar looking man who strode in with some serious vigor. Everyone else, all of the royals bowed except for him, the need not becoming apparent. Said man strode towards him and smiled, on which he commented, "Never one to bow down to others, Alfred?"

"Why should I?"

The Canadian stood, shocked, with his mouth agape. The Englishman and the Frenchman where like this too. "Alfred! Mr. President, I'm sorry for my brother's behavior!"

Alfred turned to look at the Canadian. "Do I know you?"

"Y-Yes! I'm your brother, Matthew!" The Canadian yelled, his face red and his expression of shock deepened.

"I'm sorry, I just don't remember you. Or anyone else here."

The President chuckled and ruffled Alfred's, his, golden blond hair. "You're the smartest one aren't you! I would of never thought of that and I'm the President!"

"Sorry sir, but I don't think this git is very smart." Arthur was the first one to stand up straight, and to glare at the President [and Alfred, the glare was meant for Alfred and the compliment he recieved].

"But, Arthur, he's not book-smart he's street smart! I should know-"

All of a sudden, a group of men in black rush in, grabbing everyone and putting a gun to their head or a knife to their throat. Everyone that is, besides Alfred. Their ringleader grabs the President, and he's the one that looks the most serious. You can see fear coming off their captives in waves, well all of them except the President.

"You." He glares at Alfred while the others gulp, scared. "What are you going to do?"

All of a sudden, his brain is taken over by a foreign force, one that commands his every move. It guides him, it knows what to do these situations, and he smirks happily.

"Defend." He yanks out his Joker card and throws it into the air, and it falls back into his palm, face up. A strong gust of wind blows throughout the meeting room, obscuring everyone's vision. When they all look back to where Alfred was, there is a completely different Alfred there. A strong one, willing to fight to the death for what he believes just and, it completely scares everyone.

Clad in a black torn trench coat over a black and royal blue satin suit, his chains rattle against belts, as his "smile" deepens. If you were inside the others minds [even Arthur's] right now they'd think that they we're looking at a god, not Alfred.

Alfred raises his card, and the perpetrators tighten their grips on their captives as if they were afraid of this punk. He looks at the card, and brings it to his lips. He places a quick kiss on it and quickly pulls it away from himself, flicking it into the air once more. Halfway in the air, it starts to glimmer and shine, elongating and growing a deathly sharp blade. The shimmer disappears, showing the cards true form,or shall I say purpose, a long black scythe.

Alfred, himself and the Joker, snatched the scythe and turn towards the ringleader.

"Get out!" They roared, inhumanly. The building shook, walls rattled and the wind that was building up pushes against everyone, as the men in black disappear, shoved out of the room by force. The wind once again hides Alfred, but they hear this thunk, which sounds familiar. . .

"Alfred!" Matthew rushed through the wind and found his brother face down, his head parallel with the floor. He's relieved to find that Alfred's only unconscious, but confused about his brother's sudden costume change back to his previous clothes.

Arthur got up and turned towards the President. "You have got a lot of explaining to do, so start now." For once, the others including Matthew and Francis, agreed with him.

Omake for this chapter-

"Arthur! Francis! Can you help me carry him back to the infirmary?" Matthew looked exasperated after trying to carry Alfred all by himself.

"Oho-ho~ Sure, mon ami. . . If I get the middle section~"

"Perverted frog! Matthew, I'll help you, but only because this French frog is too perverted to do anything except dying."

"But Angleterre! You saw that body~"

"First of, why the bloody hell do you call me England? And, he was so not handsome!"

"You only say this because you think he is, right?"

Arthur uncomfortably blushed and looked away, the Frenchman proud for making Arthur realize another truth about his [minimal] love life.

"Guys! Are you going to help me or what?" The Canadian glared at them, his true anger coming out. It was enough to say that Arthur and Francis helped without any snide comments, and that they rushed away from Matthew as soon as they had laid Alfred down on his bed.

Thanks for reading! Just knowing people read my stories makes me REALLY happy! I am even more pleased when I get reviews but—Ow! "Stop being such a nuisance or I'll feed you my scones!" Ow-ow! Alright Arthur I'll stop now. . . .

Thank you very much.