Reading the letter, Loretta's lips pursed ever further. Yeah, by the looks of things, she was one of the few who actually gave a shit about what happened to anybody but herself or her enemies, and Loretta prided herself on that. She was about as good as anyone with real experience in the Wastes could get, and although it didn't quite go to her head, she took comfort in the fact that she, except maybe Becca- Hell, the girl was probably even more moral than her- was the only one with some kind of morals. Darion was nice enough, but that didn't stop him from being a little more questionable.<br/><br/>She sighed. It seemed she'd be needed for awhile longer, especially with how everyone else here was at one another's throats. She imagined she'd have a bit of a time with Darion and Emma, but she was also certain that she could break up whatever shit they may stir. At least she was good enough for that, and maybe to save a few hides if need be, as well. Crossing her legs while sitting on the bed, Loretta's thoughts strayed to Emma and Jynx. It wasn't that she was hurt about the two of them having sex; no, she'd gotten over the idea of several long, slow decades ago. It was that whatever went on in there sounded painful, and because she fucked up, Emma probably had her ass turned inside-out or something. Bah, whatever. If Emma wanted to have something enter the exit, it was perfectly fine with her, so long as she wasn't so loud that she'd get the attention of a deathclaw from six hundred yards.<br/><br/>Loretta made a snort as she stood. She figured that if Emma or Jynx wanted to bring something up, they could. She'd listen.<br/><br/>Stepping up to the closet, Loretta sifted through them until she found something that was still practical, but in better condition. All of her own attire was littered with bullet holes, patches and countless tears, all crudely sewn together. She supposed it was time to get a new set, and so she drew a pair of beige military-grade cargo pants, a rather plain shirt, a pair of well-kept boots and a heavy, hooded, sienna poncho. She still kept her belts and bandoliers fashioned from seat belts, hanging them around her shoulder and waist before making sure her shotgun was properly loaded and slung over her back. Her machete at her hip, Loretta snatched the remarkably sizable bag of caps and stuffed it into her large backpack alongside her water and radiant cola. Once she decided herself ready, she left the room, turned off the light and made her way down the hall to Fanya's room, where she saw Emma dressed quite sharply, a smoldering cigar in her mouth. Coming up from behind with her naturally soft steps, she said abruptly, "<span style="color: purple">Pretty snazzy, huh?</span>" and waited alongside the convict.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>