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Riki
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"Oy oy oy, yo' very own Fiyori Senay here, and ya listenin' to Death Island Jams - D I Jaaaaaayyyy. Here ya get the hottest tracks and the freshest beats. Delivered by none other than your darlin' host of hosts - Fi the Beast and Master of Music."

Fiyori giggled, holding her hand over the mic, even though that was entirely unnecessary.

"Ah Jenny, I tell you I always wanted to do this."

Jenny didn't answer. She was even worse conversation than Keith, but granted, Jennifer had the excuse of being dead.

"Actually no, not really."

God, she actually hated listening to the radio. Ya'd think you'd get some music, but all she ever received back in Arizona was either the voice of some fucked-up idiot thinking he was the hottest DJ, or some right-wing nutjob talking about McAllister taking everyone's guns away.

Still, it was fun. More fun than, say, eating some bullshit excuse of food. Or killing people. Okay, not as fun as killing Isabel but that was actually a very different kind of fun. Anyway, it was better than what she was doing either way, namely wandering around and feeling fucking cold.

And then all of a sudden, the door opened.
Fiyori Senay
 


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Origin of Symmetry · The Radio Tower