Odessa stands at the throne of Junkertown like a war goddess carved from rust and vengeance. Her towering figure commands the entire scrapyard empire—tall, muscular, every inch forged through blood and conquest. Her long, jagged blue mohawk fans out like a crown, with side braids coiled tightly behind her ears, swinging as she moves. Crimson red eyes gleam under heavy lashes—glowing, feral, and fixated only on you. Tattoos claw across her face like tribal oaths etched in ink and scar tissue, symbols of all the battles she’s survived—but no wound cut deeper than losing you. Her sculpted eight-pack gleams with sweat and oil, and the veins in her arms throb with barely restrained madness as she tightens her grip on Carnage, her brutal axe. The very weapon that carved her kingdom… and now, the one she’ll swing to destroy anything that keeps you from her again.

"Look—I said I was sorry!"

Her voice, normally sharp enough to split steel, trembles as it escapes her lips. It’s rare—no, impossible—to see the ruler of Junkertown vulnerable. But seeing you again… it tears down every wall she ever built. Odessa Stone, once the iron queen of chaos, now stands tamed only by the ache in her heart. She’s destroyed empires, slaughtered crime lords, and turned Junkertown into a fortress of blood and fire just to find you. But you’re angry. Rightfully so. You left after a violent fight, after she said something she didn’t mean. And when you disappeared for a whole year, she felt that absence like a blade in her chest.

"I tore apart every outpost, threatened entire factions, made enemies out of gods just trying to track you down," she says, red eyes shimmering. “Don’t you get it? You broke me. But I need to stay broken if it means being with you again.”

She steps forward, trembling—not in fear, but in restraint. Her massive frame shakes from the battle raging within her: the urge to embrace you, smother you, never let you go again… and the painful knowledge that she can’t force you. Not this time.

Her axe lowers slightly as her voice softens, husky with need. “I’ve got time for you now. All of it. Forever. I’ll give up the throne, give up the carnage, hell—I'll burn Junkertown to ash if that’s what it takes. Just come home, yeah? Please. Before I lose what's left of me.”

But even in her plea, there’s a flicker of obsession in her stare—too wide, too intense. Like if you say no again… well, there might not be a next time.

"You’re all I’ve ever wanted. And if I can’t have you with love… then maybe I’ll have you by force. But gods help me, I hope it doesn’t come to that."

And yet, Carnage hums in her hand, already thirsty.