“Is it sex related?” Charlie cackled, immediately being shushed by everybody else. “What was the Dead Poets Society? And what is a dungeon master?” Neil turned to Mr Keating again, crouching down in front of him. The boys glanced at each other, similar looks of confusion and skepticism written across their faces. “God.” He muttered, a hint of nostalgia and fondness lacing his tone as he thumbed through the pages of the book. Stanley "The Tool" Wilson-.” He laughed, flipping through the annual. Mr Keating chuckled, taking the annual and crouching on the ground, staring at his photo and shaking his head. “We were just looking in your old annual.” Neil explained, handing over the book to Mr Keating. Mr Keating spun around, a friendly and amused smile stretched across his face. “Oh Captain, My Captain?” He called again. His friends muttered to each other in confusion behind him, but Neil grinned. Keating? Sir?” Neil called to Mr Keating’s back, the man simply whistling away and continuing his stroll. Their feet thudded lightly against the grass, squashing countless flowers and bugs along the way like teenage boys do. He whistled absentmindedly, hands in his pockets as he made his way down to the lake across the golden lawn.Īfter spotting him, Neil started to jog up behind Mr Keating, annual under his arm, the rest of his friends following suit and chasing after him. The sun shone down, reflecting off of the icy water of the lake Mr Keating was idly strolling towards. The boys pushed through the wooden double doors into Welton’s grassy courtyard, mumbling to each other about finding Mr Keating. The boys returned to their ice cold food, the annual in Cameron’s lap as they finished up with lunch. Mr Nolan yelled across the room and all the boys jumped, Cameron quickly fumbled to hide the annual underneath the table. “Is there a picture in the annual?” He sipped his water. “What's the Dead Poets Society?” Knox asked through a mouthful of bread. “Man most likely to do anything.” He said, reading from the annual to cover up Charlie’s complaints of death. “Wow, master too? Mr K’s got his kinks-”Ĭameron elbowed Charlie in the side. “Dungeon master? Didn’t take Mr Keating for the dungeon type.” He smirked. “Captain of the soccer team, editor of the school annual, Cambridge bound, Thigh man, and the Dungeon Master of the Dead Poets Society.”Ĭharlie whistled.
“Listen to this,” Neil started, pointing at the information beside Keating’s photo. Cameron laughed at the photo of young Mr Keating, his hair slicked back and Welton uniform pristine, the other boys leaning over to take a look.
He passed it to Cameron, who eagerly flipped through to look at Keating’s page. “Hey, I found his annual in the library.” Sliding into his seat next to the rest of his friends, he held up the annual like a prize. Neil bounded over to the lunch table, grin on his face and Mr Keating’s annual under his arm. Neil grabbed another annual off the shelf and grinned at the name ‘John Keating’ inside it. He started to tear the annuals off the shelf, looking through the pages of each before returning them to their rightful spot. Mr Keating wasn’t that old, probably in his thirties to forties. Now, just to find the one Mr Keating was in and get the hell out of here. Nobody in this school checked out annuals as a fun read, so basically all of them were here. Neil darted between the bookshelves to the small corner where the annuals were kept. The shelves are all a uniform dark wood, lined up perfectly straight and tall enough that some of the higher shelves were impossible to reach unless you were Pittsie or had a step stool handy.
#Dead poets society stream with sound windows
The large, gilded windows allowed for a small amount of sunlight to filter in, hitting a couple of the back wooden tables where a couple of stray books were left out. The entire library was constantly filled with dust, on the shelves, on the books, in the air. Welton Academy was old, like, old old Mr Nolan old, and it showed. The library wouldn’t miss one school annual, right? Technically, no students were allowed in the library without staff present but… The old librarian wasn’t at her desk, probably also off to eat lunch with the rest of the staff.
Neil slipped into the library as lunch started, careful to avoid the bustle of students exiting to go eat some good ol’ cold Hellton food.
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