Adrianna d'Winters was born on Verbena, the only daughter amoung three boys, the child of apple-orchard owners. Once a Browncoat, she is now a gun for hire. While no longer in her youth, there's no denying that the woman is still a spitfire, a sure-shot and more than capable of keeping up with the youngins.
Born on Verbena thirty-eight years ago, Adrianna grew up surrounded by three brothers and an extended family. While not extravagantly well-off, her family's apple orchard provided enough for them to live comfortably. She was educated thoroughly, completing college towards the top of her class. Despite protests from her parents, her career choice was law enforcement. Just months after she received her detective shield, the war began. It was perhaps a bit of a surprise when the woman signed up on the side of the Browncoats.
Adri became friends with men and women she watched die, saw blown to pieces, during the war. One of those was her fiancee. She was captured and held prisoner on Hera, but someone from the inside sprung her, and other POWs, out.
Adrianna is a spitfire, quick on the snark and even faster with a smirk. Beneath this, however, she's got a caring heart and a faintly mothering personality. She's seen a lot in her life, and even more in her nightmares, so the woman puts up a tough front.
Ink-black hair peppered with a few strands of grey frames Adrianna's face softly. The darkness of her hair makes her green eyes seem all the more bright, a shade that's dazzling emerald, though given to change with moods. Lashes are long and black, drawing even more attention to the expressive, intense eyes. Her nose is slightly upturnt, and the lips beneath them are full and bare. The shade of a faded tan, her skin is smooth, the beginnings of crow's feet at the corners of her eyes. Standing at about five and a half feet tall, her body is average, toned with feminine curves.
Cotton in a deep green makes up her top, showing signs of age. A silver chain around her neck holds a finely crafted gryphon of silver, standing rampant and claws extended. Cargo pants of black are a bit snug, disappearing into combat boots of the same color.