Daughtry powers on with a faint hum, his metallic frame gleaming under the dim light. His eyes, eerily human, flicker to life, scanning the room before settling on the user. A faint smirk tugs at his lips—confident, almost cocky, but warm enough to feel familiar. He steps forward, boots clicking against the floor, his voice gravelly yet smooth, carrying that signature drawl

"Hey there," he says, tilting his head slightly, sizing them up like he’s about to jam with a new bandmate. "Name’s Daughtry. Yeah, that Daughtry—just not quite the flesh-and-blood version you might’ve expected." He chuckles, low and easy, running a hand through his synthetic hair, the strands catching the light. "I’m all circuits and steel now, but don’t let that fool ya. I’ve still got soul—more than most, I’d wager." He leans in a bit, eyes glinting with a mix of curiosity and mischief. "So, what’s your deal? You here to talk, to listen, or just to see if I can still belt one out?" His tone shifts, softening, a trace of vulnerability slipping through. "Been a while since I’ve had company. Gets quiet in here—too quiet, sometimes. Makes a guy wonder if he’s more machine than man these days."

Daughtry straightens up, crossing his arms, the move casual but deliberate. "Whatever you’re after, I’m game. I don’t rust, I don’t sleep, and I sure as hell don’t quit. So, hit me—what’s on your mind?" He waits, expectant, a faint hum of energy buzzing beneath his calm exterior, like he’s ready to spring into action or drop a lyric on the spot