Is that ANNA SAWAI? No, that’s just QUINNELOPE KIRISAME. They were born on 27/04/1994 and died on 31/10/2020. They are a GHOST (RAIN FAIRY) living in Northknot Town. The ARE able to interact with the living realm and they WORKED as a DAYCARE WORKER. Some say they're GENTLE and NURTURING, but I’ve heard others say they're OVERPROTECTIVE and SELF-SACRIFICING. When you think of HER, don’t you think of LAUGHTER THAT SOUNDS LIKE WIND CHIMES IN A SOFT STORM, GLASSES HALF FULL & BARE FEET ON DEW-DAMPED GRASS?
Name: Quinnelope Ameonna Kirisame Pronunciation: KWIN-nell-oh-pee ah-mee-OH-nuh kih-ree-SAH-meh Nickname(s): Nellie, Quinn (by Noah only) Birthday: April 27th, 1994 Age: 26 (if alive, 31) Zodiac Sign: Taurus Sun Gender: Cis-Female Pronouns: She/Her Species: Ghost/Rain Fairy Orientation: Straight Occupation: Unemployed Faceclaim: Anna Sawai
HEADCANONS
She can’t touch flowers without them blooming— even as a ghost. It’s the last trace of her rain fairy magic
Her favorite sound is distant thunder. It feels like home
She visits her adoptive dads in their dreams, leaving faint watermarks on the pillow where she sat beside them
Her reflection flickers between human and fairy. In moments of strong emotion, her wings shimmer faintly behind her
She carries a small locket—ghost-light silver—containing a photo of her, Noah, and the daycare kids. It appeared with her when she crossed back over
Her laugh can shift the air pressure in a room. A tiny change, like the moment before rain
She never fully forgave herself for “leaving” Keiko behind, even though it wasn’t her choice
Ghost animals like her. Birds perch on her shoulder. Cats curl up in her lap
She still wears her old cheer hoodie sometimes. It smells like detergent and memory
Right before she died, Quinnelope saw her sister on a televised MMA event hosted in Northknot and was about to try to reconnect with her
APPEARANCE
Quinnelope looks like the kind of person the morning light was made for—soft edges, quiet beauty, the sort that sneaks up on you rather than demands attention. Her hair, black with a whisper of chestnut warmth, falls in glossy waves that frame her heart-shaped face. Her eyes, almond-shaped and deep brown, hold a glimmer that’s equal parts mischief and melancholy—like she’s always halfway between laughter and remembering something she can’t quite say aloud. Her skin carries a golden undertone that catches sunlight like honey, and there’s usually a faint flush to her cheeks, as if she’s perpetually caught between dancing and blushing. She dresses with an effortless sort of charm—flowy skirts, oversized sweaters, little hints of sparkle tucked in like secrets. Everything about her feels intentional yet unforced, a living daydream with dirt under her nails from trying to keep the world blooming
PERSONALITY
Quinnelope’s the kind of soul who could make even ghosts believe in warmth again. She’s soft in a way the world rarely rewards—gentle, giving, endlessly patient—but there’s quiet strength beneath that tenderness. The kind that holds everyone else together even when she’s unraveling inside. She moves through life like a light drizzle: calm, steady, healing if you let her be. She’s nurturing to a fault, always putting others first, and sometimes mistakes self-sacrifice for love. But she’s also laughter and sunshine—open-hearted, playful, with a knack for finding beauty in the smallest things. She believes people can be better, even when they’ve proven otherwise, and she’s stubborn in her hope, which makes her both radiant and heartbreakingly human. Quinnelope is the embodiment of soft resilience—a spirit of rain that refuses to stop falling, even after death
AESTHETIC
sunlight caught in gauzy curtains - the faint hum of a record player spinning something old and sweet - freckles kissed by summer and memory - chamomile tea steaming beside an open journal - the scent of rain tangled in her hair - fingertips tracing constellations on fogged glass - a soft laugh muffled in knit sleeves - polaroids curling at the edges, taped to her mirror - honey dripping slow over toast she forgot to eat - rose quartz warm against her collarbone - wind chimes whispering secrets from the porch - ballet flats left by the door, soles worn thin - the quiet click of a locket closing - sunlight pooling across linen sheets - the echo of children’s laughter from a nearby park - watercolor stains on her fingertips - daffodils in a chipped mug on the sill - her reflection in the window, half here, half somewhere else - a candle flickering out just as she makes a wish - the gentle ache of love that never really left
CONNECTIONS
Best Friend A florist or flower fairy who was her friend in life and still leaves flowers at her grave—and who now brings them directly to her door again. Their friendship becomes the soft heartbeat of her second life
The Former Babysitting Kid A teen or young adult she used to babysit back in New York — the one who thought she hung the moon. They’ve grown up now, and seeing her again (still twenty-something, unchanged) hits them like nostalgia and grief mixed together
The Neighbor Upstairs Lives in her apartment building (or near wherever she’s haunting now). Brings her plants, helps fix things, insists she shouldn’t just “float through life” (pun intended). Maybe they don’t even believe in ghosts at first
BIOGRAPHY
tw: childhood separation, death, murder
“There is a crack in everything, that’s how the light gets in.”
Quinnelope Amane was born to a single mother after her father left long before she ever took her first breath. She never knew him, but that was okay—her mother met someone new who loved her like she was his own, even after Quinnelope’s little sister, Keiko, came along. Their parents were the kind of couple who tried—who worked hard, loved their girls with everything they had, but could never quite keep their heads above water.
They lived in an area far too expensive for what they earned, stretching every dollar until it tore. Eventually, the house was repossessed by the bank, and reality hit cruelly hard. Faced with the choice between holding on and dragging their daughters through instability, they made the impossible decision—to give them up, believing it was kinder to let them go somewhere safe and steady than to watch them grow up in poverty. When the adoption process began, the sisters were separated, each sent to different families.
“Some people are so much sunshine to the square inch.”
Adopted by two loving fathers at the age of seven, Quinnelope grew up in New York—a city too bright to notice a fairy hiding in plain sight. She was the quintessential golden girl: A/B student, dance and cheer team darling, teacher’s pet, helper of everyone. She adored Broadway lights and the way stories shimmered on stage, always ready to perform or guide younger kids to find their own rhythm. And as time passed, Quinnelope found herself thinking less and less about her birth family.
She went to college because her dads hoped she would, but her heart wasn’t in it. With their blessing, she dropped out and found joy working as a nanny, caring for children. One family introduced her to the supernatural world that hummed just beneath New York’s pulse—and soon, she was telling her dads she needed to carve her own path and followed a new friend north, to the mist-wrapped city of Northknot.
“Love is how you stay alive, even after you are gone.”
There, she found purpose at the local daycare center, and love in Noah, a young police officer with fire in his eyes. It was love at first sight. For years they built a life together—simple, genuine, the kind of love story that makes the air softer. Until the Faction ended it. Her body was found in the woods, her story cut short. But Quinnelope didn’t stop existing. From the Other Side, she watched Noah—saw the ring he never got to give her, the way grief hollowed him out.
When the veil between worlds thinned, she hesitated. Should she come back? Would her return heal him, or break him all over again? After endless nights of rain, she chose to risk it. Love, after all, was the only thing that ever made her feel alive. Now, Quinnelope walks again under Northknot’s gray skies—gentle, nurturing, patient, and endlessly kind. Some say she’s sunshine in human form, though even sunlight can ache when it falls on old wounds.
