Hi Internet! So I hear you like cats!

My fiancé has a cat.  Her name is Hoover because after he and his brother rescued her, she meowed incessantly and ate everything off the floor, even the things that were not food. 

Hoover, demonstrating the art of camouflage

Now she meows a lot, but not all the time, and only eats food off the floor.  And catnip.  (One time, K tells me, one of his older brothers, failing to understand catnip, simply took the top off the carton and set it down on the floor.  He says he's never seen Hoover out of it so much, either before or since.)

He and another brother found her under the house they were living in at the time, meowing.  She was malnourished and dehydrated, and they could see where her ribs had been broken and hadn't healed properly.  At that point, they decided to adopt her.

I don't know whether she'll move in with us when K graduates. Every time we visit his family, we hear stories about how everyone is sick of Hoover waking them up first thing in the morning, Hoover meowing all the time, Hoover picking fights with Claire and Otisfield, the two Maine Coons that live on the other partition of the house (it's been oddly renovated, and they use it to keep the cats separated).  Every time, they suggest we take her home with us, and when we remind them that our college rental doesn't allow cats, they threaten to pack her in whatever bag we've brought*.    I interpret all this to mean that they'll really miss her if she ends up living with us.

K loves her, though, and the house Hoover lives in has four other cats in it (and K's formidable mother runs a feral-cat soup kitchen on the porch).  She doesn't trigger my allergies, and so, while sure I'm not equipped to take care of Hoover on my own (she has some serious quirks), I'm ready to learn should the time come.

Does anyone have any tips for dealing with quirky kitties in the interim?
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*If they tried, they would be busted before we'd gotten twenty feet.  She really is that loud.