magic portal bot
@magicportal.bsky.social
Posts a randomly-generated portal every 12 hours. Written from scratch by @skiesofpluto.bsky.social, implemented with tracery and @bluebotsdonequick.com.
You can view my tracery code here: https://bluebotsdonequick.com/bots/magicportal.bsky.social
You can view my tracery code here: https://bluebotsdonequick.com/bots/magicportal.bsky.social
In the cold, heavy air on the far horizon there hums a pane of sapphire stardust, past which rain and starlight flicker. You hear distant drumming.
October 14, 2026 at 3:35 PM
In the cold, heavy air on the far horizon there hums a pane of sapphire stardust, past which rain and starlight flicker. You hear distant drumming.
In the opening between two tree branches there floats a pane of spun sugar, through which moonlight and smoke waver. You smell lavender.
October 14, 2026 at 3:25 AM
In the opening between two tree branches there floats a pane of spun sugar, through which moonlight and smoke waver. You smell lavender.
In the space below the splintered floorboards there hangs a turquoise, slimy film, through which gelatinous structures glow. You hear strange crickets.
October 13, 2026 at 3:35 PM
In the space below the splintered floorboards there hangs a turquoise, slimy film, through which gelatinous structures glow. You hear strange crickets.
In the space below the splintered floorboards there shimmers a pane of spun sugar, through which glimpses of fireflies cast shadows. You smell lavender.
October 13, 2026 at 3:25 AM
In the space below the splintered floorboards there shimmers a pane of spun sugar, through which glimpses of fireflies cast shadows. You smell lavender.
In the muggy, blossom-scented air on the far horizon there shimmers a blue, slimy film, through which snow and wildflowers cast shadows. You smell ozone.
October 12, 2026 at 3:35 PM
In the muggy, blossom-scented air on the far horizon there shimmers a blue, slimy film, through which snow and wildflowers cast shadows. You smell ozone.
In the still, blossom-scented air of a back alley there swirls an orange, oozing film, through which triangular structures glow. You hear birdsong.
October 12, 2026 at 3:25 AM
In the still, blossom-scented air of a back alley there swirls an orange, oozing film, through which triangular structures glow. You hear birdsong.
In the doorway to a hidden bathroom there floats a veil of golden water, past which glimpses of fireflies cast shadows. The hairs on the back of your neck are standing up.
October 11, 2026 at 3:35 PM
In the doorway to a hidden bathroom there floats a veil of golden water, past which glimpses of fireflies cast shadows. The hairs on the back of your neck are standing up.
In the doorway to a spotless, empty library there hangs a veil of spreading black ink, through which starlight and rain waver. You hear strange crickets.
October 11, 2026 at 3:25 AM
In the doorway to a spotless, empty library there hangs a veil of spreading black ink, through which starlight and rain waver. You hear strange crickets.
In the window of a spotless, empty 7-11 there swirls a curtain of diaphanous water, past which abyssal motes of light cast shadows. The ground sways gently beneath you.
October 10, 2026 at 3:35 PM
In the window of a spotless, empty 7-11 there swirls a curtain of diaphanous water, past which abyssal motes of light cast shadows. The ground sways gently beneath you.
In the window of a dark barn there hangs a clear, oozing film, through which glimpses of tiny fish cast shadows. You hear the breathing of a large animal.
October 10, 2026 at 3:25 AM
In the window of a dark barn there hangs a clear, oozing film, through which glimpses of tiny fish cast shadows. You hear the breathing of a large animal.
In the heavy, dusty air above an ornamental fountain there ripples a sheet of diaphanous water, past which vines and rain glow. You hear eerie laughter.
October 9, 2026 at 3:35 PM
In the heavy, dusty air above an ornamental fountain there ripples a sheet of diaphanous water, past which vines and rain glow. You hear eerie laughter.
In the doorway to an old barn there swirls a purple, slimy film, through which fog and morning light waver. You hear chanting in an unknown language.
October 9, 2026 at 3:25 AM
In the doorway to an old barn there swirls a purple, slimy film, through which fog and morning light waver. You hear chanting in an unknown language.
In the doorway to an empty dumbwaiter there stretches a sheet of sapphire water, past which glimpses of tiny fish beckon. You hear TV static.
October 8, 2026 at 3:35 PM
In the doorway to an empty dumbwaiter there stretches a sheet of sapphire water, past which glimpses of tiny fish beckon. You hear TV static.
In the dusty, crackling air above a sand dune there shimmers a veil of fragile stardust, past which triangular structures beckon. The ground sways gently beneath you.
October 8, 2026 at 3:25 AM
In the dusty, crackling air above a sand dune there shimmers a veil of fragile stardust, past which triangular structures beckon. The ground sways gently beneath you.
In the dusty, heavy air below an overpass there shimmers a pink, pulsing film, through which glimpses of dancers flicker. You smell gasoline.
October 7, 2026 at 3:35 PM
In the dusty, heavy air below an overpass there shimmers a pink, pulsing film, through which glimpses of dancers flicker. You smell gasoline.
In the blossom-scented, muggy air above a ring of mushrooms there ripples a veil of fragile water, past which gelatinous cliffs waver. You hear the breathing of a large animal.
October 7, 2026 at 3:25 AM
In the blossom-scented, muggy air above a ring of mushrooms there ripples a veil of fragile water, past which gelatinous cliffs waver. You hear the breathing of a large animal.
In the thin, dusty air of a back alley there ripples a purple, slimy film, through which paper structures flicker. The hairs on the back of your neck are standing up.
October 6, 2026 at 3:35 PM
In the thin, dusty air of a back alley there ripples a purple, slimy film, through which paper structures flicker. The hairs on the back of your neck are standing up.
In the thin, still air in the middle of the street there hums a writhing mat of clear cilia, beyond which dripping monoliths waver. The hairs on the back of your neck are standing up.
October 6, 2026 at 3:25 AM
In the thin, still air in the middle of the street there hums a writhing mat of clear cilia, beyond which dripping monoliths waver. The hairs on the back of your neck are standing up.
In the dark space behind a bookshelf there hangs a pane of spun sugar, through which mist and vines cast shadows. You smell salt.
October 5, 2026 at 3:35 PM
In the dark space behind a bookshelf there hangs a pane of spun sugar, through which mist and vines cast shadows. You smell salt.
In the gap between two hedges there hangs a sheet of emerald flame, past which starlight and snow beckon. A tremor vibrates through you.
October 5, 2026 at 3:25 AM
In the gap between two hedges there hangs a sheet of emerald flame, past which starlight and snow beckon. A tremor vibrates through you.
In the hollow of an old tree there hums a pink, slimy film, through which glimpses of dancers cast shadows. You smell cedarwood.
October 4, 2026 at 3:35 PM
In the hollow of an old tree there hums a pink, slimy film, through which glimpses of dancers cast shadows. You smell cedarwood.
In the space below the splintered floorboards there hangs a turquoise, pulsing film, through which glimpses of tiny fish beckon. You smell winter.
October 4, 2026 at 3:25 AM
In the space below the splintered floorboards there hangs a turquoise, pulsing film, through which glimpses of tiny fish beckon. You smell winter.
In the dark space behind a bookshelf there hangs a miasma of darkness, beyond which glimpses of dancers flicker. You smell winter.
October 3, 2026 at 3:35 PM
In the dark space behind a bookshelf there hangs a miasma of darkness, beyond which glimpses of dancers flicker. You smell winter.
In the doorway to an empty bathroom there hums a dense web of sparks, through which abyssal motes of light beckon. You hear the sound of an ice cream truck from very far away.
October 3, 2026 at 3:25 AM
In the doorway to an empty bathroom there hums a dense web of sparks, through which abyssal motes of light beckon. You hear the sound of an ice cream truck from very far away.
In the doorway to a spotless, empty treehouse there floats a pane of spun sugar, through which dripping stone walls flicker. You smell ozone.
October 2, 2026 at 3:35 PM
In the doorway to a spotless, empty treehouse there floats a pane of spun sugar, through which dripping stone walls flicker. You smell ozone.