[Before the motive hits, Benjamin has a very important job to do. That job being, going to the art room and writing out a poster.
DON'T EAT THE MEAT PIES With a rudimentary skull and crossbones at the bottom, except the eyes of the skull are crossed out with red paint.
He picks up some rubber cement from the scene shop and slaps that bad boy on the front of the vending machine in the cafeteria.
After the motive, he takes one of the offered cups of tea out to the courtyard, where he sits for a while, vaguely sipping at it until long after it's gone cold, and humming softly. For a little while, he seems about the happiest that anyone has seen him in weeks.
It's probably fine that he seems focused intently on the seat next to him, seeing something at a much smaller height than his own.
Later in the afternoon, bordering into evening, the energy that his earlier hallucinations gave him has largely worn off. Unfortunately, he's chosen to pass out asleep in one of the comfy chairs in the library, a dry history book propped open on his chest, his chin tilted down onto his chest and his breathing deep and slow.]
cw: hallucinations, an open option that may lead to mentions of cannibalism, motive-related illness
DON'T EAT
THE
MEAT PIES
With a rudimentary skull and crossbones at the bottom, except the eyes of the skull are crossed out with red paint.
He picks up some rubber cement from the scene shop and slaps that bad boy on the front of the vending machine in the cafeteria.
After the motive, he takes one of the offered cups of tea out to the courtyard, where he sits for a while, vaguely sipping at it until long after it's gone cold, and humming softly. For a little while, he seems about the happiest that anyone has seen him in weeks.
It's probably fine that he seems focused intently on the seat next to him, seeing something at a much smaller height than his own.
Later in the afternoon, bordering into evening, the energy that his earlier hallucinations gave him has largely worn off. Unfortunately, he's chosen to pass out asleep in one of the comfy chairs in the library, a dry history book propped open on his chest, his chin tilted down onto his chest and his breathing deep and slow.]