On a perfectly normal day in New York- about a quarter mile away from where Les Misérables was showing for the first time on Broadway in 3 years- it was peaceful, and no rabid fans were in sight.

And suddenly, there was a scream that would've frightened someone who had been there…and a girl fell from the clear blue sky.

She straightened herself up, whining something about falling on her ankle, and then stopped. The girl opened her mouth and spoke again.

"Ankle," she said and gasped. That wasn't French! That was English. "Why can I suddenly speak English now?" She looked up at the sky, as if the answer could be found there.

Nothing. She tapped a delicate finger on her chin and sighed. "The answer must be that something very important has happened." And that much was true.

The only reason that this 19th century lady was here was because of the imagination of a very, very bored young authoress. The same said authoress just so happened to be sitting around as a storm raged through and noticed the thick book sitting on her desk. And that made her think of an oh-so-devious plot that she would type up out of boredom.

And then the young lady stopped tapping her chin, not because she her chin had become sore out of repetitive tapping, but because she had thought of something important, and the mysterious girl suddenly exclaimed, "My Marius!"

Then she looked up to the sky, as if the answer lay there. And it in fact did hold the answer to this question, and a little black speck in the sky began to grow larger and larger and larger.

The lady moved out of the way in time to avoid being squished by a gamine that had fallen from the clouds as well.

The girl, whom we may now introduce as Cosette, quickly helped the filthy girl up and looked at her. Cosette bit her lip and waited as the girl in front of her brushed herself off- not that it made a difference. After another moment of silence, Cosette cleared her throat softly.

"Ah, it's the Lark. Where's everyone else? They're late," the girl murmured, looking at her hand. "Where's 'Zelma? I thought I was with her. And I thought you'd be with your Marius."

Cosette tilted her head to the side and looked the gamine in the eye. "'Ponine?" she asked, a hint of surprise in her voice. "Eponine, is that you? Oh! Eponine, have you seen Marius?" Her little lips curved downward into a frown when Eponine replied with a "no".

"Didn't you hear the plans?" Eponine asked Cosette, skinny hands on her hips. Cosette shook her head and Eponine just sighed. "Oh well, maybe only a few of us got the memo." Cosette looked even more confused.

"'Ponine, what on Earth are you talking about?" She desperately asked, her head spinning. She walked onto the sidewalk and let out a deep sigh.

"Well, maybe the reason you didn't get it was because you're stuck with the other unwritten death people," Eponine mused, not seeming to notice Cosette anymore.

"Eponine!" Cosette snapped, getting the girl's attention. "Explain, please, what you mean!" Eponine walked over to where Cosette was on the sidewalk.

"We're divided into sections on how we died- see, I'm with the Romantic Death group, for those of us who die in our lover's arms and that fluffy stuff. You're probably in with the Unwritten Death people, the characters who never get a dramatic death scene," Eponine explained quickly. Cosette looked like she understood.

"Well," Cosette began, a little fascinated by this obscure system, "what other groups are there? Boring deaths? Bloody deaths? Peaceful deaths? Suicidal deaths?" She tried to think of more ways to pass on. "Oh, do tell!"

Eponine was about to launch into a long description of the death system when Cosette noticed another character falling. She lifted her hand to her mouth and was about to say something when---

SMACK!

Eponine and Cosette both turned around to see the form of a revolutionary lying face-down in the middle of the street.

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Hoorah. You might've noticed that I merged Chap. 1 with 2 to make it more chapter like and longer and stuffs. Yup.