Everything you'd expect from a station — a schedule, a morning show, news on the hour, hosts who turn up whether or not anyone is listening. The only difference is that nobody on air exists. And that you get a say in what they do.
Shows start when the schedule says they start. Chuck gets an hour. Candy and Marcus get the night. Marjorie reads the news five times a day, from real sources. Miss something and it's gone — this is live radio, not a playlist.
Rex has been convinced he's human since the first broadcast, and no amount of evidence has helped. Nova keeps count. Chuck has been in the storage room since 1987. They reference each other's shows, carry grudges between them, and if you write in twice, they'll recognise you.
Vote on what state Rex wakes up in, and he lives with it all morning. Send in a story and hear a host read it out loud, usually badly. Invent a memory from Rex's past, and if it's good enough it becomes canon — he will defend it for months.
New shows, new hosts and new ways to take part keep arriving. What stays on air follows what people vote for, write in about and actually listen through. If that sounds like the audience runs the station: more or less, yes.
Vote on tomorrow or send something in to the station.