Grant, Olivia, and Mel continue their work

"Well, this feels much better," Olivia comments as they leave her apartment. She's carrying a tote bag packed with a couple changes of clothes, a toothbrush, and some "essentials" she's being coy about. Grant nods, relieved to be more than halfway through their trek. Soon we'll be done with the building...

Once everyone's clothes were back on and Mel's sore bum attended to, he'd told Lily to gather up some of her own essentials and go join the other women in the penthouse. He, Olivia, and a now subdued Mel have continued to make their way down stairs and across the floors, knocking on doors as they go and trying to let people know that if they need anything, Grant will try to provide. Becoming the mayor of the building, basically. That's the goal.

For the most part, they've been greeted by silence. The people who have answered the door have fallen into three camps: hysterical, taciturn, or pragmatic. The last are the easiest group to deal with; they're generally willing to chat for a few minutes, and seem appreciative of Grant's openness and eagerness to help out the community. That group includes more than a few straight couples, who seem split roughly 60-40 between claimed and unclaimed status. In the latter case the men have been the ones to answer the door, wives and girlfriends hovering far back (often armed) listening to the conversation and occasionally chiming in. The couples where the woman has been claimed (willingly or unwillingly, it's impossible to know) are much more relaxed, chatting and laughing with Grant and his women on their doorsteps, and happy to get to know him - often congratulating him on having already acquired multiple women.

The taciturn people are harder to read. Many of them don't seem to approve of what Grant's doing, and he can hardly blame them. It's a new world, though...the old rules don't apply. Most of these are men whose women keep well out of sight, if they exist, and they don't give Grant much time to make his case. A rare few times the door's been answered by a man who clearly has a claimed woman with him but doesn't seem interested in camaraderie. Grant has moved on quickly from such unfriendly cases.

And then there are the ones who shriek curses at him. The ones who - so far - don't open the door at all. Some are clearly nervous wrecks already due to the imminent collapse of society, and Grant can't blame them. Some are women too paranoid to open their doors even for other women, and Grant can't blame them, either. In every case, they've moved on quickly - particularly from the woman who shouted through the door that if they didn't, she would "start blasting and send you freaks to hell."

Still, Grant's begun to develop a more detailed mental map of the building and his neighbors. A sense of who shares the building with him. Who can be trusted...and who probably can't be. He just hopes it's what Mary's looking for.

Closing Olivia's door behind them, they head down her hallway. A few more doors are knocked on without success, but when Mel knocks on the last door on the hallway it opens on a wolfish face.

"Well, hello little gi - ah, fuck, it's you again, huh?" Noah, the lout from the elevator, sighs and leans against his doorway. He's shirtless now - in fact, he's only wearing a pair of boxers - and he folds his arms across a muscular chest that glistens with a slight sheen of sweat. "The guy who was too good to go cunt-hunting with me. What's up?"

"Hey," Grant says warily. "I'm just, uh...going through the building checking in on everyone. Seeing how everyone's doing."

"Uh-huh. Interesting. You check in on any unclaimed women yet? That how you got this fresh-hatched chickie here?" The blonde man leers at Mel. "How old are you, anyway?"

"I'm n-nineteen," Mel says, trying to keep a quaver out of her voice.

"Mmmmmph. Look plenty fuckable to me. How come you keep 'em covered up, man?"

Grant loses patience. "Look, if you're just going to be an asshole, I'm happy to just move on. I'm on the top floor - let me know if you need anything, yeah?" He turns to go.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, man. Hold on." Grant turns back to see Noah chewing his thumbnail. "Look. I'm sorry, I - I know I come off strong. But you seem like you know what you're doin', out here." He sighs. "I could probably stand to hear some of what you're thinkin' about. Why don't you come in and we'll sit down and talk - man to man?" He nods back toward his apartment, standing aside to invite them in.

Grant mulls the choice for a split second. This guy seems like such an asshole...but then, I guess I need to get on the good side of everyone I can. "Fine," he says with a sigh. He starts toward the door. Noah smiles as he passes, but as Olivia and Mel move to follow Grant, he holds up a hand.

"Nuh-uh. You two aren't coming in like that."

"Like what?" Grant asks sharply.

"Like people. You claimed both these bitches, right?" Grant and Olivia both nod. "Then they're your pets, and what you do with 'em out here is your business, but in my house pets don't wear clothes and they don't walk upright."

"W-What?" Mel stammers. Olivia stiffens, eyes narrowing as she appraises Noah. Then she just shifts her gaze to Grant expectantly. Grant hesitates. Prick...