Name: Thomas Tildrum
Alias: Tomcat
True Name: La'Cael'Rah
Age: About 55 years old, but appears to be in his twenties.
Race: Faerie

Powers:
Immortality: While the Fae can and will eventually die from things like injury and illness, old age is not something they worry about. Like all Fae, he stopped physically aging once he hit adulthood; though he has used minor cosmetic magics to give himself a physical appearance that he enjoys.
Resiliency: Most Fae are very difficult to harm; the exception to this is with items made of cold iron, and some things of steel. While capable of shrugging off even mortal wounds from things like a sharpened wooden spike, none of his supernatural resiliency will matter if somebody is wielding his race's 'allergy' against him.
Catfolk: Tom draws upon the powers of the fabled Cat Sidhe. He may sprout claws at will, but these are things of keratin and not adamantine; they will dull and can easily be ripped out, and won't do much good against anything like leather or stab- or rip-proofed materials, but can cause some serious damage to unprotected cloth and flesh. He can also use them to aid in climbing (which compliments his parkour skills), and in a wide variety of utilitarian ways. He is immensely stealthy; as well as possessing keen vision in low-light conditions (with some degree of light sensitivity).
Fighter: A mundane skill, Tomcat is a quite proficient student of mixed martial arts (which he combines with his cat claws to devastating effect), as well as mixing in some armed combat lessons. His weapon of choice is the staff.
Fae Magic: As per his race, he is immensely talented when it comes to tapping into and utilizing the latent magical energies of both this world, and his home realm. His skills primarily lay in illusion, deceit, and manipulating the world around him. As far as Fae go, he is only moderately talented, as he does not fully apply himself.

History:
His parents were loving, at least as far as Fae society is concerned. But that did not stop him from being mischievous, as all children are; especially the Fair Folk's kids. But he never did quite grow out of that mischievous and carefree nature, and one day, he did something he most definitely should not have done.

It's not like he hadn't broken the rules before; but this time, he was caught. It wasn't so bad that they could kill him for it, but whatever his transgression--something that remains hidden by the Mists themselves--he had his wings ripped off, he was cursed to never heal them, and then he was cast out to wander the human world.

But he is nothing if not a survivor and opportunist. He has traveled this world, and he has always found ways to make due, to get by; some times tooth and nail, some times comfortably. But he finds thrill and joy in the roll of the dice, and the luck of the draw. He may never be able to return home, but he'll find his own.

Then he met Tarrian Maddox, and he decided to adopt the other Fae-woman because she seemed completely out of sorts and unaware of her own potential, and he felt bad for her. Also, trying to help her would definitely be an adventure; besides that, he couldn't help but feel some sense of solidarity with another 'outcast', even if she didn't realize it.