The gloskun (singular and plural) is an amphibious octopoid about the size of a chicken, found in tide pool habitats. They fill similar ecological niches to seagulls and large semiterrestrial crabs; their intelligence and robust digestive systems makes them extremely adaptable generalists. Often referred to as a "quadrupedal mollusc", the gloskun has a full complement of eight arms, but the rear four are adapted into strong, short legs - rather than tapering like an octopus' arms, a gloskun's legs are wide at the base, with the final two suckers adapted into broad, protective, nonsensory "hooves". When moving about, gloskun hold their fore arms together in a "trunk" shape, moving apart to manipulate objects; gloskun are frequently observed with only three arms in the trunk and the fourth holding wet sea grass over their beak to preserve moisture and extend their periods on land, to the degree that cartoon images of gloskun often have green "mustaches" as part of their body. Gloskun defend themselves with ink in water and on land, where they contract their siphons to carefully aim it at the eyes, noses, or mouths of would-be predators. Gloskun move with a characteristic "stamping" gait on land and when hunting on the seafloor; they typically spend water periods resting, but their relaxed legs double as powerful, rippling paddles for fast movement underwater. Gloskun are frequently observed splashing in puddles; biologists previously explained this as a tactic designed to splash prey out of tidepools, but recent study of gloskun behavior has corroborated folk reports that gloskun extract prey from tidepools with their dexterous forearms, and that puddle splashing is a play behavior. Their playfulness, responsive intelligence, and large eyes (often observed as upturned and "pleading", although it's far more likely that gloskun are simply observing their taller observers) make them endearing to humans; this is offset by their dexterity, ink jets, problem-solving intelligence, and long association with humans, which also cast them firmly in the role of "pest" -- similar to opossums, raccoons, foxes, and monkeys in both public perception and folkloric roles. Seaside communities' DO NOT FEED THE GLOSKUN signs are matched only by gloskun skill in getting humans to feed them; gloskun are capable of using tools, and an arms race exists between gloskun and gloskun-proof-trash-receptacle manufacturers. Pet gloskun are analogous to pet parrots, both in that they are frequently found perching on fictional pirates' shoulders and that they require too much stimulation to be ethically kept as pets (gloskun are not as social as parrots, but have much better ability to manipulate objects and equal or greater intellectual stimulation needs). Some communities and individuals do have more equitable working relationships with gloskun, picking up litter in exchange for food rewards or assisting with shellfish harvests.

Dumps extra cream and sugar into his tea and claims it counts as breakfast. When especially harried, he will dump coffee in his tea, which he privately calls “toffee”. In their few mornings of peace in their Scottish safehouse, Martin practically stuffs flapjacks into his mouth.

Worked nights and considers “breakfast” a foreign concept. Now that she’s off the force, her first meal of the day tends to be cold pizza from the night before.

Likes a full English breakfast, thank you, even if it is at 9 PM. Salty about the fact that you can’t get kidneys as easily these days. Not especially notable in his eating habits, except that if you describe something as a “light” breakfast, he sues you for attacking his religious beliefs.

Peter Lukas exclusively eats Depression Meals™ at Depression Times®. Elias divorced him once because the Beholding woke him up at 3 AM with the knowledge that Peter was in his kitchen eating a doughnut covered in kedgeree. This is the one time Elias has ever done anything valid.

Mike will eat breakfast food for every meal if you let him. Salt and fat and sugar and good tastes without any annoying, distracting, intricate textures. I’m projecting my autistic sensory processing issues onto Mike’s fear of the Spiral and you know what? Both of us are valid. Let Mike Crew eat breakfast for every meal of his life.

Simon Fairchild gets up at 4 AM to watch the sun rise with his morning cup of coffee and biscotti, and will NOT let you ignore this. This man proceeds to make the loudest sound in the universe while preparing some crepes and slathering them with the fanciest butter and fruit preserves he can find. (Simon especially likes fruit grown in faraway places, since he remembers life before refrigerated transportation.)

When a sad little man was Michael Shelley, he was a breakfast burritos man. When the Distortion became Michael, it would sometimes play the sound of a microwave beeping at you if you stumbled into it in the morning. When a harried real estate agent was Helen Richardson, she loved flaky pastries. When the Distortion became Helen, it found this fitting. Sometimes Helen misses breakfast, so the Distortion will make itself into something that resembles a pastry shop, and investigate the fractals of baking.

Pre-transformation, Jane Prentiss worked at a witchcraft store. Our girl ate homemade granola at noon before stumbling in for her 1 to 9 shift and washed it down with tea with vaguely racist packaging. Post-transformation, worms do not understand human concepts like “mealtimes”. Worms eat whatever they find, whenever they find it. Writhe writhe baby!

Jared is the most annoying “breakfast is the most important meal of the day” person you will ever meat. He has a Regimen and will not deviate from it for love nor money: meat smoothie on his way to the gym at 5 AM; exercise routine with copious amounts of spinal fluid for the electrolytes; big breakfast at home featuring scrambled eggs with sausage, mushrooms, onions, and teeth, as well as some hearty scones with toe jam, and a blood orange.

Starts her day off right with a cream pie to the face! She can’t eat, but you’ve got to promote the arts!

Fries eggs on her arm for herself and her Tinder hookup (assuming said hookup is still alive). Puts hot sauce in her cream of wheat.

Curds and whey, of course, washed down with hot chocolatey milk! (I actually see Annabelle as a muffins and orange juice gal.)

Elias fucking Bouchard. Elias could reasonably be described as someone who eats like a bird, but birds enjoy life and eat interesting bugs and seeds. Elias eats like Reverend Sylvester Graham is his personal dietitian. Elias is someone who would stir Grape-Nuts into his plain yogurt if he didn’t think yogurt leads to licentiousness. Elias puts goji berries in his Grape-Nuts every Sunday, “as a treat”. Elias won’t shut up about kale.