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"Explain to me," Omen declared. "What is this place that you have taken me for our date? And why are there so many items scattered about, as though plucked from a junkyard?"
April smiled and did a little twirl, gesturing to the place as a whole. "This is a rage room!"
Omen placed their hand on their hip as they surveyed the space. "I do not understand. Why would one need a room in which to rage? Surely it is far more efficient to rage in public, where the destruction will be much more widespread and consequential."
April gave a noncommittal honk. "Weeeelllllll y'see... if we do it out there, it's seen as a nuisance to society, and therefore bad for public perception. But in heeeeere, I can destroy things and it'll be seen as cute and vlog-worthy! In fact, some fans have paid for me to destroy some items of theirs before. Which was not at all a weird but extremely cathartic experience, for the record, and entirely just another normal day in my life. Entirely."
Omen had come to learn that statements such as this tended to mean the opposite of what April was truly saying. It was strange doublespeak, but part of April's contract-abiding charm.
"A-anyway," April continued, "The rage room might be a contained space, but I find that I can really let loose here. And I thought you'd like to do so too. I mean, it won't count against you and your redemption arc if you wreak some havoc on items earmarked for destruction in a room that you've booked for that express purpose."
"I see," Omen replied. "Might one also commit bodily harm in such a setting?"
"I think that'd go against the rules," April explained with a nervous chuckle. "But we can see if they've got any mannequins in. Not to mention televisions, gaming consoles, pottery, furniture... I'm pretty sure I saw a whole line of glassware last time. So what do you think? Care to give it a try?"
Omen considered the prospect for one moment longer. Certainly it would still be better to indulge in such a strong emotion as rage in a place that required no rules or reservations, where one could stand triumphant, bathed in blood and ash. But April did have a public persona that she wished to maintain, and despite the delicious temptation, Omen did not wish to face another century imprisoned should they stray from their Redemption Arc. Perhaps, then, this truly was the best of both worlds—a way to be just a little evil and sadistic, alongside their loved one, without risking their mutual livelihoods in the balance.
"Very well. We shall rage in this room, destroy their stock, and make them wish they had never heard the names of April and Omen before."
"And thus use their room wisely and be welcome to come back whenever we want, right?" April checked, a nervous giggle colouring her words.
Omen gave a curt nod. "For you, of course."
It would be a unique experience, destroying so many things without the sounds of screaming and feeling of flames flickering in the background. But the sounds of April making yells and guttural noises as she pounded a computer into minuscule shards of plastic and glass at her side would be music of a different sort. And perhaps one that Omen would find more beautiful besides.
Only time, and the liberal application of a heavy lead pipe could tell.