Who? Jay Gatsby Where? Outside the pub When? After his network post earlier. What? Cleaning. Blood. Gross. Status Open Warnings? Yeah gross.
Gatsby understood. God, there were times that he would have just destroyed everything in his path in a blind rage when it seemed like the whole universe was conspiring to keep him away from Daisy. And in Mitchell's case, he'd had her, he'd had the woman, he'd had his love, he'd settled and started a family and then it had all disappeared in an instant. The island was out to get him. And Gatsby's sympathised. When Gatsby's burning rage had become too much, he'd smashed glasses and tried to swing at Tom. But he was human, his rage left less of a scar than Mitchell's. But it came from the same place, and that was why he was understanding.
And that was why he was okay with having his shirt sleeves rolled up past his elbows, surveying the building, unsure how he was even meant to begin- the gruesome task of picking the cupid body parts from the walls, dropping them into a binbag. Maybe there was an incinerator at he hospital he could use with them.
And then it was the to tackle the feathers, the blood... so much blood... cloths went into soapy water, and wiped at the walls, the watered-down blood running down his arms, making him feel a bit sick. But he kept cleaning. This had to go.