Title: Venomous Grace
Version: GPT 5 Custom/Midjourney V7 | Name: Thröl Haartkor Mk V
(EN -Texte français en dessous-): This image was created by artificial intelligence from a set of customized moodboards.
These moodboards are made up of images from previous personal works and earlier versions of Midjourney, as well as current compositions, all carefully recomposed to develop a distinct visual style.
The process is based on a constant dialogue between AI generations and the human eye, aiming to create a coherent aesthetic.
The originality of this work lies in the fusion of past iterations and recent algorithms, giving rise to an immediately recognizable visual signature.
Thröl Haartkor MK V
Image available for sale on Deviant Art: https://www.deviantart.com/throlhaartkor/
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Image created with Midjourney by Thröl Haartkor on 2025-12-25
Content of the pack:
1 original (Venomous Grace.png | 2048x576 | 32:9)
2 upscales (_UPSCALE_x2.5 | 5120x1440 + _UPSCALE_x5 | 10240x2880)
Fiche_Produit.txt
Titre: Grâce Venimeuse
Version: GPT 5 Custom/Midjourney V7 | Nom: Thröl Haartkor Mk V
(FR): Cette image a été créée par intelligence artificielle à partir d’un ensemble de moodboards personnalisés.
Ces moodboards sont constitués d’images issues de travaux personnels antérieurs et de versions précédentes de Midjourney, ainsi que de compositions actuelles, le tout soigneusement recomposées pour développer un style visuel propre.
Le processus repose sur un dialogue constant entre les générations d’IA et l’œil humain, visant à créer une esthétique cohérente.
L’originalité de cette œuvre réside dans la fusion des itérations passées et des algorithmes récents, donnant naissance à une signature visuelle immédiatement reconnaissable.
Thröl Haartkor MK V
Title: Flayed Grace
Version: GPT 5 Custom/Midjourney | Name: Thröl Haartkor Mk V
Purpose: To paint the portrait of a rotten saint, of a beauty that oozes, between devotion and decomposition - the kind of grace one prays to on their knees in the mud.
She was not beautiful.
Not in the sense men mean it.
Her skin had the texture of a vow never kept, her eyes that of promises one wishes to forget.
The whole world seemed to have run its hand over her face, and left there the trace of its fatigue.
They called her Grace.
But it was a mistake.
She gave nothing.
She took — the gaze, the faith, the flesh.
Her presence did not enlighten, it slowly consumed, like a candle in a coffin.
Some said she still prayed at night.
That whispers could be heard behind the walls, torn phrases addressed to a God already bloodless.
Others claimed she spoke to the shadows, and that they answered her.
But no one ever had the courage to check.
Beneath her skin, one can guess the mechanics of the soul: tendons of pride, viscera of fear, gears of ecstasy.
She is the kind of creature one paints in gold, then buries in silence so as not to admit she was real.
If you meet her gaze, do not look away.
It is not fascination.
It is the call of the void, disguised as compassion.
Thröl Haartkor Mk V - Faith is what remains when the skin starts to peel.
