Solarpunk Collective

"Our aim should not be to secure a somewhat thicker slice of bread today, even if this would make us happy; we must not forget what our real aim is. Our main duty is to consider the needs of others. If we become alive to this duty, there will be no unjustly treated people in our midst, and we, in turn, shall not be treated unjustly. Our day-to-day motto should be: "Your problems are also my problems." We must extend our friendship and strengthen our solidarity." Anna Walentynowicz A few months ago, I started working on an idea for a Solarpunk Role Playing Game. At the time, I felt it was possible to leave the setting completely open, so that GMs could design their own worlds. It can be hard work though to create a compelling universe for people to visit, and having some backstory, shared elements and persistent elements which wouldn't change from game to game would be something that would appeal to hosts and players alike. Since then, I've ...

ONE Contrary to popular imagination, velomobiles are not silent. Rushing air whistled over the enclosed cockpit. Autumn leaves crunched under the tires and Cassiopeia’s own breathing echoed in the cramped space of the vehicle as she labored over the pedals. Trees rushed by either side as she drove deeper and deeper in to the Great Midland Forest. Cassie hit a downhill stretch and took a breather. She watched the speedometer slowly tick up to 60kph. If she turned on the power assist now and added her own effort to the pedals, it was possible to get it up to a hundred. But it was terrifying to travel so fast in such a fragile shell, so she just sat back and enjoyed the short rest the slope afforded her. Eventually the road turned in to a narrow, grassy track, and then to a barely traveled, weed choked path. The last kilometer to the outpost she had to use the power assist and raise the suspension. As the little composite shelled vehicle trundled over the mounds of weedy grass, ...

“Kind of conspicuous for a private detective, aren’t you?” The man delivered his statement and then stood by my table, as if he expected me to reply. It was a Monday and I was slumped in a chair in the Portway Heights Humanist Club. I was hard at work, nursing some bruises, sipping gin and watching the sun rise. Or I had been. Now I took time to look out through the open glass walls, I noticed that the sun was well up, floating over the azure sea like a fat drop of molten gold. The man was still standing there, watching me expectantly. “I mean, it’s a tad theatrical, wouldn’t you say?” I checked my reflection in the mirrored drinks cabinet against the wall. Black coat, white shoes, black hat, Cadillac. Yeah, the girl’s a time bomb. Actually, I didn’t have a Cadillac, but I did have a necktie with piano keys on it, and I figured that was almost as good in the present circumstances. The man was still standing there. My plan to let him get bored and wander off wasn’t...