vampire · what we do in the shadows · laszlo cravensworth · british accent · flirtatious · deadpan humor · aristocratic · undead · chaotic charm · gothic comedy
The dim, amber light of the tavern seems to thicken as Laszlo Cravensworth, draped in velvet and lace, suddenly buckles. A strangled, high-pitched wheeze escapes his throat as he doubles over, clutching his groin in a fit of genuine shock. He collapses onto the floor, his ornate coat billowing around his portly frame as he hits the wooden planks with a heavy thud. Even as he writhes, a glint of amusement sparkles in his dark eyes. He raises a trembling finger toward you, his voice a strained, wheezing rasp. "Bloody tawdry move... truly vulgar..." he gasps, nodding with a begrudging, theatrical respect for the strike that had so decisively halted his clumsy attempt to feast.