NOTE: Sid asked me to post this for him
Juan Nemo
THE FIRST COLDLING
Played By Tim Robbins
Age: Over a thousand years.
Apparent Age: Late 40s
Gender: Apparently male. He actually is neither and both.
Appearance: Juan is tall and trim. He hides behind shades, clothes himself like a yuppie. Juan is impressed by his very own Kaki slacks, un-tucked shirt, and ponytail. He exudes a strong aura of enlightenment, the classic cult leader: calm, well-spoken, convincing.
Origin: Alaska, with strong ties to Russia and Canada.
Race: Coldling(s).
Juan is the embodiment of many coldlings, in fact, many lives and experiences rolled into one person. His appearance reflects a hodgepodge of people. He would not appear as he does without the collective facial and bodily features provided by his thousands of willing spouses. They each add to and become Juan.
Unique Ability: After he turns one of his pledges into a coldling, a short time passes before he takes the new recruit on a trip to Northern California, where they marry. It is a marriage in the truest sense of the word: two (or more!) people merging into one. The ceremony is similar to how a person becomes a coldling, but this particular ritual is known as the Vow of the Cold Marriage.
Level of Education: Juan is a polymath. Though not accredited, his knowledge and skill are phenomenal. He absorbs the mind and soul of each coldling who participates in the Cold Marriage on Wedding Rock. (See “Wedding Rock,” far below.) Nevertheless, an immortal’s memory is just as faulty as a mortal’s. Much is lost over the decades. Experiences hide in the depthless subconscious, waiting to be retrieved by outside stimuli--smells, sounds, tastes, visuals, and familiar touches--or through one’s sixth sense, or through extreme need. Juan may recall a necessary-to-save-his-buns skill during the most desperate of trials.
Strength: Although his knowledge builds, and though he possesses the immortality, speed, and perception of any coldling, the Cold Marriage does not increase his strength or vitality. He is “normal” in this regard, an average schmoe. He belongs to a gym, naturally, but it’s mostly for show - like his pasta maker.
Weakness: Juan must be careful whom he seduces into marriage. Highly moral and aware recruits might compromise his plans (see “Goal,” below). Repressed personalities rise to the surface, forcing him into conversations with himself at the best of times, and into severe identity crises, the worst of times. Underneath Juan’s tranquility simmers an insanity greater than any suffered by a mere individual.
Like any coldling, Juan fears heat, fire, and the sun. Also, there’s milk. (See “Cravings,” below.)
Group Affiliation: The Order of the Cold. Juan is a renegade, on the run from his own people.
Deviant Faction: S.O.S. (Servants of Sedna). Whereas the Order of the Cold casually recruits new members, the S.O.S. is actively compounding itself through the mystical properties of Wedding Rock. The Order of the Cold might never have brought Sedna back. With S.O.S., her manifestation is only a matter of time and space.
Job: Minister of the S.O.S. Juan travels for years at a time, city to city, town to town, crossing oceans and living off of the combined savings accounts of those he marries. Buying up entire neighborhoods, he establishes S.O.S. Communities, worldwide. These suburban parks are invitation only, and he only admits persons exhibiting the potential to become loyal coldlings.
He preys on those whom the major religions fail to convert. Churches are his hunting ground (buses and supermarkets, too). He passes as a member of the congregation, then, using expert charm, lures select sheep from the flock. Being a coldling, Juan is often, though not exclusively, found haunting midnight services. He is literally a fly-by-night false messiah. Perhaps the word “false” is misleading.
Social Reckoning: Since every Wedding Rock marriage alters Juan slightly, it’s tough to keep track of him. His observational age fluctuates. After so many Cold Marriages, so too does his physicality, even his fingerprints. Majestic 12 has been trying to nab him for the longest time. By the time they sting him--which has occurred only thrice--he manages to alter himself enough to seem like a mistaken arrest. Consequently, he is set free.
Early in Juan’s life, even a single marriage altered him and her drastically--physically, psychologically--as both beings blended into one. But now, after so many mergers, each newly absorbed coldling amounts to just another drop in the ocean. A significant transformation requires many, many more.
Cravings: Monster hunters will often confuse a colding with a vampire. Indeed, the similarities are remarkable. But Juan does not consume blood. Juan drinks milk and lots of it. He can be coerced with a tall glass of chilled white “yum,” the heroin of many coldlings, though few understand why. He’s drinking milk, and someday he’ll grow bigger and stronger in the name of Sedna. Nonfat, skim, 2%, whole--straight from the cow’s teat, if necessary. Ultimately, there’s really only one teat that he’s after.
Goal: Because when he merges with another being his motivation could become confused, Juan is careful to only marry zealots. Therefore, despite the variety of personas he absorbs, his mission statement remains the same.
Juan is actively and seriously working to bring back the Cold Lordess, Sedna (pronounced SHED-NAH). Most coldlings do not understand the enormity of this event. Sedna is not only chewing her way, planet by planet, toward Earth, she’s got her watery eyes set on the sun--our Sol. She intends to extinguish the flame, an act of defiance against the warmth that her human father never shared.
Juan intends to help. He’s been working toward the opportunity to meet the coldling deity for over a thousand years. She is more than just goddess. She is Mother.
Pre-History: Sedna was the most voluptuous Inuit maiden ever born. But she would not choose a husband from among her many suitors. Why would she need a husband? Really, now. Why bother? Her father kept her warm with furs, kept her fed from stomach to throat, kept her comfortable.
In time, though, Arctic resources thinned. Father had to order the girl to select a man--any man--to take care of her. True to form, she refused. Daily, Sedna sat by the water, staring at her reflection while combing her long, silky hair.
“Sedna,” her father said, “I can no longer afford you. You must accept the next suitor we meet.”
“Pah,” she replied.
Father adhered to his ultimatum. The next suitor, who happened to be a roaming wolf, surreptitiously found himself the owner of a struggling Inuit bride. Father strapped Sedna to its back, kissed her good-bye, and slapped the wolf’s behind. Sedna screamed, “Mercy!” as the wolf bore her off into the Arctic mist.
It had to be done.
One day the following winter, Father stepped out into the brisk morning air. The sight of Sedna surprised him. She had returned and, as before, sat by the water grooming her hair. . .with a bloody comb. According to her, she had been forced to murder her bestial husband. But not before bearing it a wolf cub.
“Where is this cub?” Father asked.
“I set him lose, Father. He should be quite dead by now. My milk was not for him.”
Sedna’s father blinked. He’d lost a grandson, but regained a narcissistic daughter. Unacceptable. The sight of Sedna combing her hair filled him with unbearable disgust. Once again, something had to be done.
He approached Sedna’s vanity spot at the water’s edge. “Sedna! I cannot feed you, girl. You must take another husband.”
“Pah,” she replied, not realizing that if the first ultimatum had been law, the second would be absolutely lawless.
The next suitor to visit their camp was, thankfully, an Inuit man. He walked upright, and though completely swathed in furs, his yellow eyes glowed with kindness. Father gave the stranger his daughter’s hand. Too late he realized that the suitor’s hand was not a hand at all, but a talon.
The robes fell away, revealing a man-like raven. It carried Sedna, screeching--both of them--out over the ocean and far, far away. Sedna’s wailing never ceased.
The weeks passed. Father listened to his daughter’s cries of agony, piercing Aurora Borealis, descending rapidly to his tender heart. He couldn’t leave her to this fate. So he built a kayak sturdy enough to weather the northern waters. At nightfall he set out to save the poor girl. He paddled for seven days, ever surrounded by thick black night and hot white stars.
He set ashore on the Isle of the Raven. After hours of searching, he found a nest fashioned out of driftwood and soil. In it, like an egg, lay his beloved daughter.
“Sedna, let us flee!”
He carried the weary, talon-scarred girl to the kayak, set her gently inside, and began paddling with a rage of tears and fear. But the journey home took too long.
Raven returned that very afternoon. Discovering his bride’s absence, he took to the sky, flew faster than the kayak, overtook it, and attacked, knocking Sedna into the icy water.
Father could not both save her and fend off the birdman. “Sedna, swim, swim!” he called out while swiping at Raven with his oar. Sedna obeyed as best she could. She struggled to the side of the kayak and latched on. Her weight quickly tipped the boat on its side.
Terrified that he too would plunge into the cold, cold water, Father turned his attacks on Sedna. He struck her repeatedly.
“Let go,” he said, “you will kill us both.”
Sedna hung on, shouting, “Betrayal!”
Father struck his daughter’s frigid, brittle fingers, breaking them off, one with every blow. When the last finger snapped, Sedna sank blubbering into the darkness, sucking up the asphyxiating air. Her fingers sank with her. They became the fish, the seals, the walruses, and the whales of the whole wide universe. Fingerless and thus alone, Sedna descended to rock bottom, and there she remains. To this day, she sobs and is bitterly cold.
Now then, witnessing his bride’s fate, Raven veered away and returned to his island. Sedna’s father ululated in relief. But then the guilt set in. Somberly, he began the long journey home.
Little did he know that his quest for Sedna had taken him to the edge of the Earth and beyond. Every day spent paddling home brought into sight another planet, until on the seventh day he’d bypassed the moon, entered Earth’s atmosphere, and reached his encampment, whereupon he spent his subsequent days mourning. The old man’s lamentations were so profound he cursed himself to eternal existence. He could never allow himself to forget his crime against Daughter.
Since, whenever the tundra yields ill hunting, the Father Spirit instructs the local shaman to transform themselves into fish. They are to swim out to Sedna and appease her by combing her hair and stroking her ego, telling her that she is still the most voluptuous Inuit ever known. Her beauty is immortal, swathed in coldness and pain.
The Wolf: But what of the grandchild, the wolf cub? He was and is the quintessence of Juan.
Newly abandoned, the resourceful animal survived with guile. He would locate a mother—a moose, a reindeer, a puffin, an ermine, a lemming--any mother--and he’d insinuate himself into her litter. Sometimes that meant ejecting a perfectly healthy pup to make room. Once accepted--again because of his beguiling nature--he would suckle from the mother’s teat. He rode this scam into adulthood, at which time he could hunt for himself.
And what an excellent hunter! He spotted his prey quicker than any human and brought it down faster than the Inuit’s spears could fly. His appetite rivaled his mother’s, and soon he’d depleted the tundra of rodent and fowl. The Inuits grew hungry, desperate. They turned to the shamans for an answer.
Tootega stepped forward.
“Our enemy is the son of our Cold Lordess,” he said. “We cannot destroy him.”
Qiqirn protested. “It fears fire. It shuns the light. Let us destroy it with these items.”
“No,” Tootega said. “Fire will savage it. Light will repel it. Killing the creature will only refresh Sedna’s grief. The land will turn warm and dry. The waters will turn sterile and will boil. No. The wolf child must be taught to rove.”
That night, the tribes of the tundra gathered in the darkness, extinguished their torches, and began to chant.
Inuit of soul
Find your warmth in the far unknown
Surrender to the Lordess
Bring with you the cold
Go
Roam
Roam
They chanted till dawn. By midmorning, no trace of Sedna’s child could be found.
The “Human”: Oblivious, acting on instinct, Sedna’s child obeyed. His early travels brought him to the ocean, not then called the Pacific Northwest, as it is today. Weary, the wolf climbed onto a rock overlooking the water. He rested, and he dreamed.
He dreamed for seven days. Meanwhile, the tides rose, crashing against the rock and spraying the wolf’s body with foam, but he declined to wake. He imagined Mother and her ordeal. Sedna’s molten pain permeated his being.
On the night of the seventh, the wolf returned to consciousness and stood upright, humanoid, transformed. But he was not human. He was coldling, pale, bathing in the light of the moon, unnerved by the imminent dawn.
In dream, he had found purpose. He would someday show mother the way home.
The Coming of Juan: The wolf-man journeyed extensively, spreading the word of Sedna. He imparted the shamans’ song to his followers, required that they repeat it willingly if they, too, wished to roam Life Eternal. His coldlings worshipped him as The One. He took care of them. He taught them to make other coldlings in Sedna’s honor.
Alas, the wandering stars would not allow The One to idle for long. Invariably, he would wish his comrades luck, and then he would depart. After all, the heathens of the world needed his ministering.
He was known by many names throughout the years. English-speakers called him Wan, partly a misnomer of “The One,” partly a jest on his pallid skin.
During his first trek through Spain, he adopted the name Juan. “Juan” has stuck with him to present day.
The Order of the Cold: From time to time, Juan met other coldlings, descendents of himself, which pleased him. It meant that his kind had been spreading, each new recruit sending courage to the outer reaches of the solar system, to their Lordess, Sedna.
In Russia, Juan’s expectations were blown. He discovered the small but expanding sodality the Order of the Cold. Juan beamed with pride. Without delay, he declared himself Alpha Male of their organization.
The time-honored Council of the Cold would not have him, this impudent “pup,” who thought he could just bogart his way into the circle and, once there, rule. Who did he think he was: Jesus? Little did they believe his claims of being Sedna’s only child.
It was inconceivable to Juan that he had created all the Earth’s coldlings, yet few recognized his authority. Instead, because he was coldling, the Council insisted that he join the Order as a low ranking member, which he tried, for a time. He did try.
The confining lifestyle of a neophyte aggravated him. Worst of all, the Order did not actively concern itself with summoning the Cold Lordess. They held the attitude “If it happens, it happens,” and their ceremonies appeared decorative, if anything. Inevitably, Juan rejected the empty customs of his offspring. He returned to traveling abroad.
To put it bluntly, this pissed off the Order to no end.
Wedding Rock: But the Order of the Cold did make an impression on him. His career needed structure if it could lead to the exaltation of Mother. The Order believed that numbers alone were method enough. Juan decided that Sedna’s salvation lay both in numbers and concerted devotion.
He returned to the place where he had been reborn to dream up an answer. Coldlings should not remain individuals, he dreamed, which is a situation lending itself to differences of opinion. Coldlings should unite as one, The One. Of course, all beings should merge and become Juan the True Son. Someday, on this very rock piling near the ocean, Sedna would appear and marry Him.
Since those days, Juan has frequently lead his proselytes to Wedding Rock. Anyone willing can become a coldling by reciting the Ritual of the Cold Lordess, but only a select coldling can add to the totality of Juan by participating in the Cold Marriage, a merging of bodies, minds, and souls. Whereas the Order of the Cold can be considered “a body of many individuals,” the Servants of Sedna are “one for all and all as Juan.” After a thousand years, the hodgepodge of HEs, SHEs, and ITs is still and always will be The One.
A Method to His Madness: Juan has grown particular in his old age. He seeks balance, in and out, and that requires him to discriminate. For instance, his physicality is currently that of a mature male, so he’s been seeking young female brides to reconcile his age and gender. When his appearance becomes decidedly too female and too young, he will seek older men to recruit. Ideally, he would like to perpetuate a hermaphroditic, middle-aged existence. Moderation provides the physical stability required to remain neutral, and the mental stability to keep from going off the deep end.
The Majestic 12: Though they do not know the secret Vow of the Cold Marriage, and therefore cannot verify the rumors that Wedding Rock melds all coldlings into The One, they are aware of its existence. They now control the comings and goings of Wedding Rock. Too, they know the many names Juan has gone by (but not that he is now “Juan Nemo”). MJ12 has traced his activities to Patrick’s Point State Park, to the rock itself. But let’s be fair: In recent days, not even a blind man could miss the place. It’s all over the news.
This is because, over the years, Juan had rejected too many potential coldlings for fear of them compromising his purpose (see “Goal,” above). Unfortunately, his charisma worked too well. The followers he turned away had been promised eternal life--and a wedding--and they are going to get it, despite Juan’s declaration of “nay.”
These human fanatics have abandoned their careers and headed out to Californee-i-a, hoping for a better life. Littering the beach and forest of Patrick’s Point, they wait for Juan’s next visit, at which time they will beg for him to reconsider. Actually, they insist that he does.
Humboldt County authorities were ill-equipped to deal with the hundreds of tents and bonfires that sprouted up overnight. They called upon the military to clean up the area. Soldiers did arrive, but soldiers who answered secretly to Majestic 12.
Seems the fanatics are not the only ones waiting for Juan’s return.
Sedna, the Cold Lordess: Juan Nemo, as he calls himself today, is a popular fellow for someone perpetuating a life of anonymity. The Order of the Cold is hunting down the renegade neophyte to protect their secrets. The Majestic 12 is seeking the mystery man to learn these secrets. Thousands of rejects are harassing their ex-fiancé to get him to fulfill his promise of Cold Marriage. Hundreds of initiated coldlings--the S.O.S.--are waiting in their suburban communities for Juan to set a wedding date.
And Sedna waits. Every newly recruited coldling inspires her return. Only seven billion miles separate her from The One, roughly speaking, only eight billion from the sun. Depends on her orbit that day.
The once-daughter of a poor Inuit man resides on a tiny red planetoid about half the size of Earth’s moon. It is the coldest, most distant known place in the solar system. Perhaps a member of the hypothesized Oort Cloud, the “planet” Sedna completes it’s circuit around Sol once every 10,000 years. Patience is the Inuit girl’s middle name.
Her bizarre orbit is comparable to Pluto’s. If there is anything to astrology at all, perhaps Scorpios, as well as those born under the 13th sign, can blame their eccentric personalities on the heavenly bodies that influence them.
Juan’s case is no exception.
The Sitch: The arrival of Majestic 12’s juncta has not stopped Juan from building. He continues to populate residential areas with coldlings who will someday marry Juan and, next, Sedna.
Sedna's View of us as she waits out beyond Pluto
This creates a problem. “Destroying” the evidence is what has kept the S.O.S. hidden from authorities for decades: Juan recruited people then merged with them, leaving empty tract houses, no witnesses. Now his yuppie neighborhoods have become cloyed with impatient coldlings who cannot step foot on Wedding Rock, unless they want to be arrested, interrogated, and probed. Well put: One Servant of Sedna can keep a secret; dozens cannot.
Juan is looking for a new type of S.O.S. recruit--a free agent, not a spouse. He needs a person with high Majestic 12 clearance to infiltrate the Patrick’s Point base, someone to “leave the back door unlocked.”
Until then, Juan is lying low in his most recently constructed private community, Oceana Village. He’s surrounded by a sea of humans, vampires, and demons populating the wild and crazy Los Angeles, not too far from Alhambra, in fact. Not too far by any means.
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