Fareed "Freddie" Kattan

Singer and a lover and damn good at deception


Hello everybody, everyone probably knows me as the great Freddie Tisby. Well maybe some of you know me as Freddie Kattan, or maybe even Fareed Kattan. If we are going to get technical some may know me as Darryl Notaro or Neil Almazan or some other name I have long abandoned. Anyway, you can just call me Freddie like everyone else. By now you are probably all in awe by my fame and fortune, and you are wondering to yourself how you could be so successful. The short story is you can’t. I have talents you will never measure up to, and I live my life to ensure it will stay that way. But cheer up, I will tell you the long story anyway.

It all started when I was being pushed from between my mother’s legs. I was indeed born Fareed Kattan to two wonderful parents. Indeed, my name is Arabic, but I am not a dark one from Saudi Arabia or even Africa, my parents were Syrian. That means I have an amazing tan and beautiful tight dark brown curls on my head, but otherwise people assume I am white. Anyway, my father is a successful accountant at some major corporation. He moved to Seattle with my mother and two older sisters before I was born. We were not rich by any means, but we were definitely quite well off. As a young boy I was often teased and bullied in school for my foreign name. Many just called me Fred or Freddie, and I went by that to help me fit in. By the time I was entering secondary school I had discovered my passion for music. I fell in love with the old school classics like Queen. Freddie Mercury was my idol, the rich melodies and soothing harmonies were not just beautiful, but inspirational and cutting edge for their time.

Unfortunately this was also the time most other boys were becoming metahumans. I was always a small guy, but even smaller compared to the orcs and trolls that were now my classmates. The small flamboyant singer boy that I was made me a prime target. I learned to run quite well that year. Anyway, my father is a very conservative Muslim, so he decided to transfer me to a private school of all humans. I perfected my singing talents and went on to the University to study music.

The University was a magical (literally) place compared to the private school I had spent my past few years. Within the first month I had attended a magical seminar by Cameron the Great. Up until this point I guess I had already known that I was magical, but had always tried to suppress it and hide it. Cameron showed me a few tricks and it turns out I was quite talented. Cameron took a liking to me, telling me that I had a face you could trust, and magic that was hard to detect. He took me on as his personal disciple teaching me everything there is to know about magic.

To those of you less magically inclined, it works something like this. God chose to bring magic back into the world, but only for those chosen people. Mastery magic takes talent and tenacity. You have to show that you are special and manifest magic in spectacular ways. Cameron always described the world as a stage, and the best performers get all the special effects that prove they are the best. Anyway, that is what drives my magic; performance and superiority. Cameron and I are masters of illusion. We can put on a show so good that everyone else is made inferior. So inferior that we could take large amounts of money from them without them even realizing. We spent years demonstrating this concept time and time again to numerous different crowds of all kinds. I perfected my magic and became a star of sorts.

Meanwhile my father was not pleased to find that I had dropped out of the University. Not pleased is a good term for it, because he was positively irate that I had instead spent the money to learn magic. Magic was not something that was discussed in my conservative household. My younger brother and sister thought it was hilarious watching my father and I argue. It didn’t last long though. In the end I left and took the name Frederick Tisby as not to cast any more shame upon my family.

With the end of my father’s stream of money, Cameron disappeared almost as quickly. It wasn’t a big deal though. In many ways I was a better illusionist than him already, and we had covered the basic counter-magics enough that I could fend for myself. Without his constant schemes, life became a lot simpler. I went back to pursuing my music career. I am still one of the best singer in Seattle and prove it regularly on stage at several of the local bars. When I am not singing I am usually enjoying myself at the bars anyway. My nights are rarely lonely, because there are always lots of boys and girls looking for a good time, and what better way to have it than a night with a local celebrity?

One night I ran into this guy who liked to call himself “Shaman Bond.” He may sound a little crazy, but he thought I was wasting my talents with light shows and making guys and girls fall deeply in love with me. He told me I could do a lot more good fighting the evils of corporations. He made a good point. I had long ago joined a more liberal mosque; more accepting of metas, magicians, and the sexually promiscuous. Many in that group were quite radical blaming the corporations for the evils of society and turning us away from the faith. I can’t say I was ever persuaded to do anything crazy, in fact I rarely attend group prayer anyway, but all of their ideas don’t seem too far off. I guess Cameron always said that the corporations are the ultimate stage for a great performance. And the extra cash would help me lead the rock star lifestyle I deserve to be living. I am not sure what precisely it was that night, but I agreed to join his club, and have kept up with it ever since.

So, there is the long story. Clearly you would need a lot of singing and magic talents to be anywhere near my level. I still keep in touch with most of my siblings, and even my mother. Though my father will claim to only have four children, I know he tries to keep track of me through my mother’s “secret” conversations with me. My story is not close to over yet, but it is obviously leading to fame and fortune.

Fareed "Freddie" Kattan

The Precipice of Fate steelweevil