@cassandraverge // Creating reoccurring instances of meeting a person was not a hard thing, technically, for Gertrude. She arranged them all the time. She liked the methods and madness and strategic planning that went into things like mapping out patterns and locations. She was the best sort of stalker-crazy, which made her the worst sort of person. That, plus every other horrid sin she’d committed. She gave no care for hell. But mostly because she’d try to outrun it as much as she could. But back to the matter at hand.
Gertrude was fantastic at mapping out the moves of friends and foes. And most of it was for keen observational habit. But one person, in particular, eluded her at the right times. Unpredictable, but she shouldn’t be. Or maybe that was because it took Gertrude so long to track her down.
Cassandra Verge moved around the city doing the important things she was meant to do working with children’s books and two doe-eyed but world-weary peers that seemed to both adore her but grate on her.
Anyways, Gertrude was finally able to orchestrate three meetings in the past week. Run-ins. She was glad for the school being out on fall holiday, even if it did mean that more kids ran around the city streets, which was a nuisance to Gertrude. Once at a coffee place, in passing. Once locking eyes, intense eyes that seemed to match tone emotionally but not in terms of hue. And now.
This time, Gertrude was able to arrange a run-in at a bookstore. She figured Cass had to do it for at least some research in the book industry. But Gertrude was able to catch Cass at a moment now, over by the new releases of watercolour-themed animal stories.
“Oh, it’s you, isn’t it? I’ve seen you around a lot lately,” Gertrude says, having reached for a book that Cass was looking at, Gertrude’s face becoming a thing of surprise. “Were you going to look at this... Songbird book? Lovely art, I think.”
