Ladies, gentlemen, and all in between! I’d like to introduce you to my Welcome Home OC!
𝓒𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓲𝓮 𝓞’𝓒𝓸𝔃𝔂!!
“The smallest and sleepiest neighbor in Welcome Home! Cherie O’Cozy is your average shy and sleepy little sweetheart of the neighborhood, who you can always find catching a little ‘power nap’ wherever she goes! But don’t mistake her sleepiness for sheepishness, for behind her sleepy-eyed demeanor is a girl who can really pack a punch if she needs to!”
(There’s a pride flag hidden in there somewhere- hint: It’s not her wings)
Description
“According to salvaged DVD footage of behind-the-scenes of Welcome Home, it was revealed that Cherie O’Cozy was created in homage to one of the writer’s daughters, who was the heavy inspiration and voice actor of Cherie in early episodes before she passed away suddenly in her sleep.
Throughout the show’s run, Cherie O’Cozy was depicted as a quiet and shy girl that mostly acted as a supporting side character in skits with the other residents during episodes, mainly to act as comic relief with her character’s sleepy conduct. But with every passing episode, Cherie’s role and personality became more prominent and outgoing as she became less and less timid, eventually starring in an episode called ‘Passion for Fashion’ which focused on Cherie O’Cozy coming out of her shell- with the help from her neighbors- and embracing her hobby of fashion design.
Cherie O’Cozy made frequent appearances on the show up until The Playfellow Workshop’s official release of the Welcome Home spinoff series, ‘Welcome Home: The After-School Show!’, after which Cherie’s presence became solely exclusive to the spinoff. The spinoff show often featured Cherie O’Cozy singing songs- mostly lullabies- and teaching kids important life lessons, one of the more popular lessons is teaching kids how to be themselves and ‘to come out of their shell’. The show’s target audience was mostly children with self-esteem issues, leading to Cherie becoming a fan favorite among many families who watched the show.”
(This is such a shitty character design. I’m also new to digital art so please be kind)
I’m going to be making a separate blog for each of my hyperfixations and I’m turning this one into my Welcome Home blog! So to my Pied Piper followers, I will now only post Welcome home content on this blog. It will no longer be my main. But do not worry! I will make a separate blog for Pied Piper content too!
I will post the links to all of my blogs soon once I finish making them.
Thank you for your time and have a good day/night you beautiful person!💖❤️
One of my favorite sandwiches is a peanut butter-Nutella sandwich with strawberries in it. I typically eat it for breakfast, but sometimes I have it as a little snack. I usually eat it with tea or a plain glass of water!
“Now all these things are from God, who reconciled us to Himself through Christ and gave us the ministry of reconciliation…”
Inspired (once again) by this @chimeracarnival
Wrote a story for it too! Be careful though! There’s a lot to read (also I’m out of practice so there’s probably a lot of other issues)👇
P.S: The story is split up into parts and each part has a comic panel that corresponds to it (They’re numbered)
1
‘Another day another dollar…’
The thought echoed through Clover’s mind, the nonexistent sound of her conscience attempting to console her only irritating Clover further as she strolled down the hall, running her hand across the wall in hopes of a sensory distraction.
It wasn’t the first time she’s told herself those words.
It started as a simple saying she sought comfort in. A few wise words to encourage Clover through today and the next. But as her work continued and became more taxing, she found the once auspicious principle having less and less of a desirable effect, eventually just becoming a useless, routine expression Clover tells herself in hopes of sparking that once supportive essence it had. In reality, there was no point in continuing to tell herself such things if they wouldn’t change how she felt. But it’s good to stay positive…
Even after you just had your throat slit.
The lights above dimly flickered, the old yellow bulbs trying their best to cast light throughout the corridor, the indulgent yellow glow of the rustic light sources reflecting the establishment’s old age quite well. The building wasn’t much- an old vintage hotel in reality. But it had a roof, and that was good enough for Clover and her small crew…
The charity work was going smoothly. The last few days had reaped prosperous earnings, mainly because of those who had witnessed Clover's assassination and had donated to her group in support. It was flattering and, frankly, quite heartwarming to see that people in this city still had hearts, despite its notorious legacy for crime. The only downside to all of it was that Clover now had to organize her group’s growing finances. And boy was there a lot to organize…
Her office was a sanctuary and an abode for such things. A place where she could find comfort while managing such vital tasks. As of late, Clover had finally settled on a place to make her office. A small room in the building’s west wing, located at the end of a small corridor accessed the lobby. A perfect spot in her opinion. And now all that was left was to go there and get her work done.
Simple enough, right?
The smooth texture of the manila file folders shifted around in Clover’s arms as she walked, the edges of the paper that stuck out from the folder slightly moving around between the joints of her fingers. She held on tight, however, ensuring that the papers wouldn’t fall amidst the walk to her office. The last thing she needed was any more inattentiveness to herself, especially regarding the incident with the last fundraiser…
2
As Clover made her way further down the hall, however, she began to smell something… Acrid. It didn’t pollute the air, so it was hard to tell where the scent was. It passed her nose in small whiffs as she walked, however, the smell was so… strong. Even in small quantities, the invisible odor burned her lungs like heavy smoke, compelling her to cough violently despite only inhaling a small amount. And the longer the odor lingered in the air, the stronger it began to smell…
Was there a gas leak…?
Clover stopped, putting a hand over her nose as she sniffed the air, coughing even more as the noisome odor took on a sharp scent, like smelling blood but without the scent of iron. She could pinpoint no source from where she was standing, so Clover understandingly took a few steps forward.
Almost immediately, the atmosphere changed and the air began to grow thick, quickly becoming more and more difficult to breathe as if the air was resisting Clover’s attempt to inhale. Her heart sped up as she began to panic, her body soon demanding more air so it could keep up with her heart’s change of rate. But no air came to her lungs… A stinging burning sensation struck Clover’s nostrils as if she had just inhaled water through her nose, causing her to slightly stagger back and pinch her nose bridge. She squinted her eyes as Clover tried to see where the strange odor was coming from, and how it was causing her to feel this way…
The hallway in front of her began to warp. The once lengthwise walls began to twist and turn, almost churning in Clover’s periphery as the environment around her began to contort in physically impossible ways. The popcorn ceiling seemed to liquify into a watery-like state as it appeared to ripple, causing the once stationary yellow lights to move and flash rapidly like party lights at a nightclub, disorienting Clover’s view heavily. The hallway in front of her faded to black, leaving only a few feet of perceptible environment in front of Clover as the corridor around her began to warp even further and a subliminal rumbling sound slowly appeared in her ears…
What is happening…?
WHY is this happening…?
Am I still dead?
Is this the afterlife…??
I was revived, right…?!
Why can’t I feel myself breathing? What is happening?
Clover’s head snapped up, her thoughts interrupted as she carefully watched a long trail of dark gray- and strangely opaque- smoke snake past her.
The hallway had returned to normal. And so had her breathing. The strange odor was no longer there, nor was the stinging or the rumbling… Everything was back to the way it was before.
Did she just… imagine the whole thing?
No… She couldn’t have… That wouldn’t make sense…
Her train of thought was cut off by the sudden smell of something fresh, almost like mint as Clover’s eyes- and nose- were coaxed down the hall, subconsciously following the smoke that trailed down that way as well.
3
Her gaze followed the unnatural smoke down the corridor until it stopped right at the last door, where the smoke snaked out from underneath.
That door was her door… Her office door.
4
Clover’s heart hit the floor like a brick, the sinking feeling that followed making her weak in the knees as panic washed over her like a sudden tidal wave, stirring up frenzied and erratic thoughts of fear in her head like angry wasps.
Was her office… burning…?
If there was indeed a fire, then the circumstances of the smoke had taken a dire turn. Clover had kept all of her charity’s earnings inside her office, alongside important documents containing financial data and even intel collected by her group on the Darling Family- the very reason behind her group’s existence. If even one of those documents were damaged or burned, the past few months of rigorous work would all go to waste, and their progress would endure an immense setback. Maybe even a setback large enough to put everyone right back to where they started…
But that would depend on how much property was destroyed.
5
Almost immediately, Clover’s body jerked into motion and before she even knew it, she was charging down the hall, her hooves pounding against the poorly carpeted floor as Clover bolted down the corridor. The undulating wisps of gossamer smoke in the air slowly began to thicken, the thin strands of sulfurous air seeming to spin themselves into dark gray ribbons amidst the blur of passing surroundings. The thick ropes of smoke in the air almost began to swirl in a vortex around Clover, keeping up with her pace and hovering around her as the smoke began to twist in almost animal-like locomotion. It looked akin to a nest of snakes slithering about prey if Clover had stopped to look carefully… But alas. Such trivial details were not of importance at the moment.
6
The smoke had gotten thicker as she rapidly neared her office door and the vortex that had previously lingered about Clover suddenly came to a halt. But Clover, on the other hand, had not.
She burst through the wall of smoke that the vortex had left in her path, a rush of that familiar sharp and heavy odor briefly assaulting her nose as Clover squinted, revealing her proximity to the door. The doorknob was at arm’s length. Clover nearly lunged forward, ignoring all the cautions she should have taken before grabbing the metal handle.
She froze.
Not willingly, however. It was as if the feeling of the doorknob against the skin of her palm shocked her senses… Clover couldn’t move. Her body refused to comply with her attempts to do so, but she was just… Stuck. Touching the doorknob had caused her to freeze altogether.
The odor from before began to creep its way back into her nose, brought by the ascending plumes of smoke from the bottom of the door. The smoke slithered up around her legs and arms like wispy tendrils, leaving a numbing pins-and-needles sensation behind wherever it touched. It spread like fire beneath her skin, causing Clover’s fingers to momentarily lose feeling and loosen around the doorknob. A rush of adrenaline suddenly snapped her senses back into place and Clover, in a flurry of panic and burning pain, finally yanked open the door.
And the smoke was gone.
In fact, everything was gone.
7
Past the threshold of where her office should’ve been laid something far beyond natural means…
A large flourishing meadow, full of life and blooming flowers.
Long tufts of swaying grass tickled her bare hooves as the door gave way, the terrestrial foliage lightly brushing up against Clover’s shins and leaning through the doorframe as she took in the new environment. A huge refulgent globe of light peeked halfway over the horizon, spraying the sky above in a spray of incandescent colors. The pastel shades of reds, oranges, and pinks created a warm gradient of light-colored flame above, serving as an aesthetic backdrop to the occasional cluster of white fluffy clouds that sat well dispersed throughout the sky. And the ground that sat beneath those lovely heavens was nothing short of majestic.
A long stretch of tall grassy fields lay before her, an array of blue and white flowers peeking out among the overgrowth. Enormous bluebells the height of sunflowers and wild indigos towered over the grass, swaying lightly toward the ground, almost gesturing towards their smaller cornflower and daisy counterparts, which were tucked snugly in the grass below. Clover looked ahead and saw that the field was atop a hill, overlooking an abundance of other similar-looking fields that stretched as far as the eye could see.
It was like she opened a door into a new dimension.
What had happened to her office…?
8
As she looked off into the distance, however, something else caught her eye. Amidst her brightly lit and colorful environment, Clover spotted something gray and indistinct floating in her peripheral vision.
It was the smoke from before.
Clover found her eyes following the wispy gray trail once again, watching it snake over the long stretch of field. The tall grass gradually began to grow shorter and shorter until it leveled out to a clearing, at which the smoke led her lingering gaze to the center of it.
There was a person here...
A vague silhouette of a person to be exact. They seemed to be an adult, hunched over and staring ahead aimlessly, however. That assumption was made purely on observation as the figure was completely cloaked in dark and opaque shadows. Not a single detail could be perceived in the figure other than one of their hands, which could be seen compared to the rest of their form. They were holding something… Regardless, the abnormal lighting was a strange phenomenon, which only amplified Clover’s growing confusion and bewilderment.
9
A strong and abrupt gust of wind suddenly blew out from behind her and into the open field, causing the grass and the flowers to bend and sending ripples throughout the landscape. A path began to form as the wind crossed the field, the plants in front of her reverting into seeds beneath the soil, forming a small path through the willowy vegetation. The gust of wind finally rushed past the figure in the clearing and suddenly, the shadows on the figure lifted. And to Clover’s surprise, the figure had shrunk.
A young girl, looking no less than 14 years old, sat where the shadowy person should’ve been, wearing a bright red dress and a woven sun hat, tied with a matching crimson bow. Clover could finally see what the figure was holding and noticed that she was holding a daisy between two of her fingers, gazing at it silently as its petals blew in the wind. Clover couldn’t help but let her eyes stay fixed on the girl, finding herself almost entranced as she stared.
10
The subtle air of mysteriousness in the atmosphere suddenly lifted, and the tension Clover didn’t know she was holding in her body was released. The wind in the air reduced to a calm zephyr, bringing a sense of ease with it as the tall grass began to sway towards the clearing, almost as if her surroundings were beckoning Clover forward. The girl then turned around, shifting herself so she could face Clover properly. A long and slender pair of butterfly antennae hung down from the back of her head, swaying like the tall grass as she turned. Another pair of feathery moth antennae drooped down the sides of her head, framing the girl’s face. A single ruby-red eye stared back at Clover, glistening like scarlet pools behind cross-like pupils. A long pipe stuck out of the side of their mouth, revealing to be the source of the strange smoke as more wisps continued to undulate out of the chamber.
The two held eye contact for a brief moment, a strange sense of deja vu- no, familiarity- slowly overtaking Clover the longer she held her gaze with her.A faint smile formed on the girl’s lips, almost as if she could tell what she was thinking as she pivoted more of her body towards her.
Moths are taller and bulkier than butterflies, and fluffier too. There really isn't a single spot that isn't covered in fluff. Often times their eyes are reflective in a way that gives them a major case of crazy eyes. Their antennae can be various degrees of fluffy or just plain thin. It isn't dependant on their gender, though males tend to have them larger on average.
Butterflies are daintier and their fluff is much shorter. The texture of their wings is scaly rather than hairy and they are generally brighter and bolder than those of moths. Their antennae always end in thick clubs.
The other subtle difference is in the way they hold their wings. Moths are more comfortable keeping them down and straight, whereas butterflies keep them standing back in a V shape.
(I’m going to add this every time I post a Cherie doodle)
Cherie sometimes calls Howdy ‘Pa’ or ‘Dad’, but only when the other neighbors aren’t around (she thinks it's only fair since she calls everyone else aunt or uncle).
If a neighbor speaks Spanish or French, Cherie can help translate for them! She is fluent in both!
Mostly because she can speak Spanish, Cherie can do a pretty good auctioneer voice! She frankly gets quite shy when asked to show it, mainly when a neighbor asks to bargain a price (Howdy likes to put her on the spot in front of customers to show off).
Cherie’s favorite color is indigo! She has a whole pj set dedicated to the color.
