The Rhomboid Tongue-Tickler is an old-born symbiotic mythobotanical wonder of fey origins, albeit one with some frequently-unwanted side effects. Many a tale has been told of its host, weary indeed of the fruits of the Rhomboid's labor, committing a dramatic and violent suicide. However, data would suggest that in reality reported cases of Rhomboid-harborers suffer from a significantly lesser rate of suicide. It is likely the tales are a case of "sour grapes".

The Gasp Guzzler, while possessed of a somewhat amusing name, is much less amusing to run into in person. Like many modern-born lesser shadow-eaters, the Gasp Guzzler is fond of preying on young adults especially.

The creature is often covered in a thick fluff of mold and mildew due to its native habitat in unkempt trash heaps and the abandoned buildings of cities. As a result, its smell is quite rank. This intensity of smell all but banishes the Gasp Guzzler to the darker corners of the night, though those with little or no sense of smell are cautioned to take care when around great heaps of rubbish. The Gasp Guzzler's eyes are grown-over with its symbiotic molds, and so it navigates by method of excellent hearing.