Philo Prince

Father

* Tim Dangle

Brother

* James Cooper

Son

* Eden Prince

Philo is a character played by ThyLoki

## Background:

Born into the life of a Gypsy in Ireland, Philo Prince was every bit a cheeky bugger you could imagine- the Gypsy life is one of general freedom, constantly on the move and never in one place for too long, either moving of their own choice or moved on by police or local uproar. Philo's mum and dad weren't in the picture by the time he was 10 and had instead taken to growing up with kids of all ages from other families who themselves had left their kids, or ,kids left their parents- making their own path and continuing the cycle. Going into his teen years without any guidance, rules or laws to abide by he found himself mixed in with the Irish Kings- an organised crime group in Dublin and was a drug runner for them, a good one at that. Slowly moving up in the ranks with the Irish Kings the lifestyle became natural to Philo- before long he was pretty renown within the group, being fleetfooted and quiet and wickedly ruthless. At age 16 he found himself on the run from the Irish police for a high profile murder of a semi famous celebrity who was touring Ireland at the time who just happened to owe a substantial debt to Philo's boss for kickstarting their star status, and before long Philo found that his warrant was on a Government level given the global media attention the hit gained, having to discard any proof of who he was and burn any traces of himself as he moved throughout the country. At age 18 and still on the run, Philo had changed his appearance substantially, dying his hair and getting tattoos. Instead of hiding his face as a wanted man he did the opposite and found himself joining a bareknuckle boxing organisation under the alias of "Baby" where every ounce of his talents excelled. He got leaner and tougher- often having to be pulled off his opponents or stopped by security, he was pound for pound every bit an attack dog out for blood when he was fighting and his reputation started to go outside the boxing circuit, people talking excitedly when his matches would be coming up, unfortunately this also worked against him. Having not been in many other life experiences other than violence, crime and nefarious activities, it was a woman who would ultimately beat him at his own game. Her name was Niamh (pronounced Neve), as generically Irish as they come- gorgeous red haired emerald green eyed Irish bombshell with a cute freckle on her nose that snuck her way into his life in the must unique way. At first she would watch quietly from outside the cage, always catching his eyes before a match- and over time those eyes started to look some type of way- especially after a match when Philo was being cooled down. She was sweet, funny- gentle even, the complete opposite to everything Philo knew and his past relationships, at first he shrugged her off, having no ability to get into something serious given he was still a wanted felon despite looking quite different from when he was 16, but she had him hooked before he knew it himself. The two dated for a few months, but, as fate would have it, one night finishing up from a match his girl wasn't waiting for him like she normally was. Philo shrugged it off and started washing up before seeing an all too familiar red and blue light flashing from outside one of the windows and the deep thrumming of a helicopter overhead- a little tense he threw on his pants and snuck out the back where police were moving into the building past the lingering boxing crowd with other units moving to the back. He took off over a neighbouring fence, grabbed an oversized hoodie off the wash line as he ran through the backyards, hopping fence after fence before creeping around the corner of one of the homes to watch everything going on down the street. There at the perimeter he spotted his woman, looking through the crowd, laced boots, tac belt and a black bulletproof vest with S.D.U stitched into the front. He'd been played, set up and fell for her trap. He figured it out all in an instant she was all too perfect, all too convenient, and all too easy to fall for- that's what undercover agents do, make it just fit so well until they have enough, and then they take the rest. Cursing to himself, Philo looked around quickly, finding some old newspapers and some discarded colouring pencils but they would do, he opened his phone and wrote down a number on the paper before taking out the simcard and snapping it, stomping on the phone and taking off on foot to a lockbox he'd stashed long ago should the time ever come. In the lockbox was a phone, portable battery, enough cash to get him wherever he needed to go, and a pretty damn legitimate looking fake ID. Turning on the phone he unscrunched the paper with the number, tapping it into the phone and hoping his uncle would pick up the other end. The journey from Ireland to America was a bloody long one full of nerves and stress, it was a 1 way over a shitload of ocean and a whole lot of not knowing if there would be police waiting for him when he landed, all he knew was where he had to get to, and once he landed he'd boost the closest car and start driving, and that he did. Thankfully his uncle lived on the east coast so he didn't have to drive for too long, and once he got to his uncle's house the cheery reception was quickly ended with work his uncle needed done to earn Philo's keep. Philo's first week in America was a rude awakening, one of the first cars he went to get seemed to be a set up, the moment he sparked the ignition the owner busted of the bar the car was parked at and shot Philo with a shotgun to the chest. Recovery took months, the fact he survived at all was nothing short of a miracle, Philo chummed it up with the nurses who used to tell him often it must have been the luck of the Irish- he'd try convincing them that he was a fighter and you can't keep a dog down. Unable to do much in the hospital bed other than wait for his body to heal, he made sure the time passed quicker being a cheeky shit with the nurses who in kind grew fond of him, never short of blankets, pillows or drinks- or phone numbers once he was discharged and sent home. After a few years and settling into the fact that nearly all media attention of the murder had simmered down into unsolved mysteries in Ireland- Philo took a new perspective in life on a path he wanted to follow, he was still a criminal through and through, but hours on end boosting cars to chop down or race and listening to music he developed a bit of a hobby which quickly turned into a passion. Music had taken over his life, often rapping new bars over tracks in the cars or going home and listening to samples, he found some decent success posting his own work on the side to websites, however all the buzz was that the place to be for any young music artist was Los Santos. Tired of doing the same thing week in and week out, although financially more sound than ever and he had everything he could want and having done most of it alone, Philo wanted to do something more with his life. There was more than just car boosting or the low tier drug slinging in his area, crime was petty at most and the police were lazy- where he was living now was where criminals went to retire, no one had any fire in their bellies and there was absolutely no future for an aspiring music artist in his city. Philo woke up one morning and simply said fuck it- sold all his cars and a home he'd bought and made a deal with a not so clean pilot friend he had met at a bar, bribing his way onto a passenger jet, first class at that. Los Santos was on the horizon, and the possibilities were endless.