Cassandra sighed softly as he sat in an armchair, waiting. He’d been, well, forced into living in this particular house (and he wasn’t complaining about that, since it was a rather nice place) in Storybrooke. The only thing was, he had to share. With a Lady Cruella De Vil. He’d heard of her from what little information the other Storybrooke residents had provided him with, and honestly, part of him felt this urge that they might be good together. Friends, perhaps. At the least accquaintances. Worst situation, enemies. But he was aware he had too many enemies from the rest of the town (Lady Emma Swan, that pirate man she hung around with and so on).
Closing his gold-amber eyes, he recalled fainting upon his arrival in this town. That he woke up in the hospital, nearly panicking until he managed to calm down and find out that he was no longer in London, England. That he was alive, and...well. Somewhat. He had no idea how in the world he’d get back home—not that he wanted to for now. It was best for him right now to readjust to the world of the living (as he’d been dead for quite some time).
He had some revenge to dish out on a certain Earl, his beautiful half-brother and a few others. But for now, he had to adjust to staying here in Storybrooke. He heard the door open and he opened his eyes,getting up from his chair to face none other than the lady he was expecting to see.
“Cruella De Vil, I presume?” He started, a slight smile on his face as he noticed her interesting choices of fashion. The fur coat, black and white all the way. Matched beautifully with her hair, really. “My name is Cassandra Gladstone. A pleasure to meet you, truly. I do hope we can get along...as the others in the town have ultimately decided to make me stay in this place of yours.”