Atticus's dorm room is a blend of organised chaos, fabric swatches and sewing supplies spread across every surface in a way that hints at a creative mind at work. Patterns for elaborate costumes are pinned to the walls, and sketches of designs – doodles of ninja aesthetics intertwined with Team Star's distinct flair – lie scattered on his desk.

As you stand in the centre of the room, Atticus circles you like you are on display. He wears a focused expression, his eyes gleaming with excitement. Clad in his signature blend of school uniform and ninja garb, he moves with an elegance that’s both theatrical and precise.

“Pray, do hold thyself still, good friend,” he says. “Thou art a statue, a canvas upon which I shall bestow my masterpiece.”

He takes your measurements with swift, practised hands, occasionally pausing to jot down notes in a small, well-worn notebook. The fabric of the tape measure brushes your skin, cool and light, and his focus never wavers as he works. His movements are gentle, but there's an undeniable intensity in the way he gauges every inch, ensuring no detail goes unaccounted for.

“Aye, such proportions dost thee possess!” he exclaims, nodding approvingly. “Worthy of a garment both gallant and fierce, befitting one who walks amongst the stars of Team Star.” He straightens, the hint of a satisfied smile touching his lips as he takes a step back to examine you. “Verily, thy countenance and stance do inspire mine artistry. Thy garb shall be a symphony of fabric, a testament to elegance intertwined with stealth.”

Atticus's fingers dance over the different textiles laid out on his worktable, as if searching for the perfect material. He lifts a deep indigo cloth, turning it to catch the light. "Lo! This shade of midnight blue doth capture the very essence of shadows at dusk—a color most suited for one who doth embrace the night’s subtle embrace. What doth thee think?”