Pickman Build Guide — Morimens

A half-human, half-ghoul artist, he possesses an otherworldly talent that remains forever out of reach for ordinary souls. His ghoul artworks dissolve the fragile boundary between the painted world and the real one, pulling viewers into a total, and often terrifying, immersion. Yet Pickman vehemently rejects the title of mad surrealist. In his own declaration, he has always been, and will only ever be, a realist—for he paints nothing but the world as it truly is.

The courses of the Painting Department in the Academy of Fine Arts are tedious and mundane, most of which have left no trace in my life, but I can still recall the mimetic painting class in A.F. 3@2. Mr. Matthew is renowned in the art association, his classroom is crowded with people. We huddled in front of Matisse's "Luxury, Calmness, and Delight," and at that moment, I noticed a thin young man in the corner madly smudging in a sketchbook. I approached him, ready to see his mimicked painting, but saw a chaotic stone sculpture of a graveyard. "Look! The ghoul queen is giving birth, preparing for a blood feast for her child... how mad, how elegant!" He excitedly looked up at me, his pupils glowing with a strange blood-red under the gaslight, as if it was a coffin covered in red moss. I felt fear and dizziness, but I couldn't take my eyes off it. In those eyes, I saw images completely unworthy of this world. Pickman, from the first time I saw him, I knew he was different from us, his life was destined to be difficult and extraordinary. After getting acquainted, I occasionally visited his studio. I witnessed him using decaying corpses as models and his own blood as paint. Standing in front of those crazy artworks, I felt as if I could hear the gnawing sounds coming from the canvas. No matter which faction in the art world, no one recognized Pickman's creations; all exhibitions and salons turned him away. He appeared unfazed, still optimistically pursuing his art, but his purity made it impossible for him to hide his loss and pain. His talent was both shocking and frightening, and no one could truly accept it, including myself. In the final days before leaving, Pickman fell into a state of great pain and excitement, which I originally thought was a psychological issue that was bound to occur, until one day, I saw his twisted limbs and claws, and witnessed the mad world in his eyes. That was a fear I couldn't contend with, and I could only try to forget it. Before I could completely end my connection with Pickman, he proactively found me to say goodbye. Now, standing in the modern art museum's pristine gallery, looking at the genuine Pickman's work discarded in the corner, I can still hear the sound of nails scraping from deep within the canvas. "Underground Carnival," that was the painting he created when I first met him, and also the farewell gift he left me. Pickman might hold some taboo puzzles that should not be approached, but I still kept this painting. No matter what happened to him that I shouldn't know, one thing is certain - he is the most talented artist I have ever met. Last night, I dreamed again of that painting class room in my freshman year. The young Pickman was in the corner of the room, laughing loudly at me. "Ghoul? No, Ever, what I painted from start to finish is the truth, is humanity!" The moonlight split into countless bloody points in his eyes. That was the first time the Abyss smiled at me. —Excerpt from "The Memoir of Painter Avery @2"

A.F.3@2 Feb 12th During the visit to the statue studio, the completed sculptures were painted with colors. The color design is quite innovative, but it contradicts the original design system of the sculpture set. Afterward, I agreed to take on all the coloring work for the statues for free. Perhaps there will indeed be opportunities for us to collaborate in the future. Witness: Sanga ... A.F.3@2Apr 9th Attempted to dig up corpses in the Keygrave as models, but failed. Captured on site, invited the patrol personnel to pretend to be corpses. Witness: Ogier ... A.F.3@2 Apr 11th Stealing kitchen ingredients as reference objects for a painting. Although the ingredients were successfully saved, the timing of the spice marination and the flavors of the ingredients have been completely ruined, losing their value. As for the attributes and sources of the ingredients... it's not convenient to disclose that for now. Witness: Doresain ... A.F.3@2Jun 29th Illegally infiltrating the school's library, hanging your own massive painting in the center of the wall. At midnight, influenced by the school's Silver energy density, a bizarre creature emerged from the painting, causing damage to some unprotected artifacts. Afterwards, he voluntarily applied for maintenance work, during which the number of damaged artifacts exceeded the damage caused by the monsters. The school has urgently suspended his maintenance activities. Witness: Czort ... A.F.3@2 Jul 23rd Diving into the Black Pool, attempting to use the pool water as paint. Tawil did not disturb him, but the power of the Black Pool itself caused him significant harm. I am actually looking forward to what kind of scene he will create with the Black Pool? Witness: Alistair ... —"Pickman Records: Violation Log

Before receiving that invitation from Necrovia, Pickman thought there would never be a place in this world for someone like him. The extreme madness he witnessed at the royal banquet table kept him tossing and turning in sleeplessness. Those eyes that could see scenes from different worlds found true fullness at this feast. When he awoke from the Dream and Necrovia faded from his sight, Pickman's regret quickly transformed into an endless longing—he yearned to return to that dream city, to witness once more the infinite madness of that breathtaking scene. Following this desire, he attempted every mad act. In the end, he leaped into the D-Rift, painting with Dissolution, completely exposing himself to that horrifying darkness. Everyone has their own tasks to accomplish. He has eyes that can see the mad truth of the world, and he firmly believes that he was born to burn for art; this is his mission. As he wished, Dissolution brought him madness and pain, allowing him to once again witness the scenes he experienced in Necrovia. The twisted world in his eyes became even wilder and more vibrant under the corrosion of Dissolution. Amidst the prolonged suffering, he picked up the paintbrush, painting day after day without pause. He is a devoted realist painter, and he must record these visions that only he can see. The pain intensified, and when Pickman could no longer grip the brush in his hand, he knew his time was near. After completing the final stroke of his last painting, he lay down in the coffin he had long prepared, waiting for death to arrive. The pain and chaos brought by Dissolution clouded Pickman's mind. In the cold embrace of death, he peacefully closed his eyes. But the next day, the bright moonlight awakened him once again. The traces of Dissolution and pain miraculously faded away. After several days of growth, his limbs became long and curved, and his canine teeth and claws became hard and sharp. He sensed the scent of graves and spirits, and the mad, chaotic sights of the world became clearer in his eyes than ever before. He gazed joyfully at his half-human, half-ghoul body, a tremendous sense of happiness swelling in his heart. Fate had bestowed upon him a curse, but it also compensated for his rare talent. The experiences in Necrovia awakened the faint ghoul blood within him, and under the catalyst of dissolution, he completed his transformation. The tombstones around him danced clumsily like a crowd celebrating together. The enormous Bloody Moon opened its crimson eye and smiled at him. His art does not belong to this world; now, he knows where he is destined to go. Pickman lay atop his own coffin, spreading his arms wide, joining in this lonely revelry. He is about to leave the city of humanity and go to the promised land that belongs to him. He knows that everything he seeks is waiting for him there.

A monster. A freak. Demon with the blood of monsters. Madman who desecrates art... Before Pickman, a canvas unfurls, and the curses mix with other sounds, smearing brilliant colors across the canvas. He leaps into this dazzling world, wandering in the mad colors. He eagerly hopes to lead others into his painting, to let them witness the most authentic visage of the world. The sharp spikes of reality pierce his heart countless times; mutual understanding between people is more challenging than opening the boundaries of two worlds. From humans to ghouls, from human cities to Necropolis, the road is long and winding. He has been wounded time and again, yet he rises again and again. He has long understood that there is neither truth nor falsehood. Pain and madness are the truth of the world. And his duty is to depict all of this faithfully. The meaning of depiction lies only in the act of depicting itself. He dedicates all his life and passion to painting. His expectations rarely receive a response; his pursuit never ceases.