The cell was rather ugly, bit dirty, and decrepit on the inside, everything about this place sucked some serious ass to Byron, as he was rather uncomfortable on the inside of it. Ugh.He had many feelings about this place, but they sure as hell weren't positive, it was frustrating to be in such a dinky and underwhelming cell where he wa sconfined. Not having much to do inside of the place beyond wallow for a day or two. His sentence only had a day left in it, was he just going to sit around and doing nothing whatsoever?

When he came out, he was gonna be a stronger person for sure. As he would climb onto the bars of the cell he was in, and begin to force himself to pull himself up and down. With his hands latched onto the bars. He would slip at first, not being acustomed to the grip whatsoever and fall on his ass. Before going back on it and attempting to pull himself up again, only to fall once more. That would not stop the okama however as he reached back up again, and managed to pull off one of those. Maybe I should start a little simpler.

Quickly, Byron began to get down on the ground and begin doing pushups. Going at a steady pace in order to truely build up his strength. He was going to need it once he got out of here of course. Up, down, up, down. He panted as he did it, never really having done much of any kind of exercise. After a few minutes the process was begining to tire him hout. He contempalted taking a break as he did it, stopping for a few minutes wasn't gonna kill him right?No, but it could kill him later on if he wasn't in the proper shape for the shit he was going to do. Despite the pain, Byron kept pushing on, the sweated beaded down his forehead as he pushed his body to it's very limit. The impact having a noticable impact upon the cell floor, he'd eventually collapse on the floor tuckered the hell out. 100....Getting up wasn't exactly easy for him either right now, but he wasn't gonna lie on the prison floor if he was tired. Especially when he saw a damn cockroach move across that floor a few seconds ago. Eugh. This place was really goddamn nasty to be in...He just had to get the hell out of here. Sitting down for a bit, he would take a few deep breaths. Really getting in some actual air, he almost forgot to breath while he was training and passing out from that in the middle of a jail was just plain damn embarassing if you considered it. Did he really want to do this?Yeah.

He was tired, too exhausted to really keep going, as He'd lie back in the prison bed that was inside of his cell and begin to think. Just a few more hours until he really busted the hell out of here, and when that happened. Boy, did he have alot he was gonna do. Jails were a damn dump though, then again they were mean't for criminals, or atleast what this world dubbed was a "criminal" indeed. Just about anything that was violent in this world was a crime, going so far as to break a chair even would get you pocket change bounty. Byron would just lie back and relax. Recovering from his own personal training ordeal, and to regain his energy.

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Byron would then get up and lie himself back before beginning to do sets of crunches in order to train his abdominal region. Going back and forth in a steady motion in order to really feel the quote on quote burn. He went on and on doing this in order to build up his endurance for once he got the hell out of this prison, there was alot Byron was going to set out to take care of. The classic one-two pace was nothing to him, ok maybe it was something. Given after a few minutes, his abdominal area was starting to feel a pretty serious burn, as he doubled over cluching it in slight pain because of how far he had strained himself. It was a decent ordeal so far.

[W-I-P]

It was long, ardidious and exhausting. Byron was asleep for a few hours and was just now beginning to wake up. Feeling the hits of what he had done a few hours ago, training like this really stung like hell, but that was the point of it all. No pain no gain am i rite? He'd push himself up from the bed. It was only a quick rest nap. He couldn't exactly hold back his strength, despite the pain he was suffering from. It had to be pushed through, he wasn't going to get better as a person if he just lied there and complained about being sore, about hurting like a child would. Or like anyone who was soft would. He used to be a soft person, someone who could barely defend himself or those around him whatsoever. Vividly remembering it, he'd certainly changed alot in comparison to before. Before he was a guy that would never even consider fighting, or the very prospect of landing a hit on another person or living thing that walked across this earth. Byron was a damn pansy, and heh, he laughed a bit to himself about it just considering that. He was a damn pansy after all like they did say.

But today, he wasn't like that anymore. As he resumed his training procedure. Beginning to do push-ups rapidly in order to continue to train his strength. Despite the pain, Despite the strain, despite all of it. He was going to keep going even if it killed him so be it damnit. The okama had come too far in his life in order to just give it all up here right now. Continuing to push on past the pain, Byron went up and down even faster than he did the last time. Albeit, it was rather intense, and nauseating, and dizzying. Midway through his exercise, Byron slumped over. Almost vomitting and hurling to the side. Damn, the okama had truely pushed himself and was suffering the downside of it right now. Unable to get up for a bit Byron just lied there. Almost motionless and unable to do much. Thinking to himself about what he had done right now. There was some surefire progress being made judging by the severe signs of his exertion. He'd attempt to stand up, placing one hand on the ground in front of himself in order to push himself up literally. Except midway his arm would collapse and thud him against the cold hard floor again. The cold, dark cell that didn't really have much too it. It was like an endless pit of dispair to those who really did have high bountys. His own bounty was almost a third of the average where he came from in East blue, but to him now. A Bounty had no meaning, it was just numbers.

Putting his hand forward again, he would attempt to push off to get himself up, successfully but almost falling down again. he would put his other hand/arm forward in order to keep himself up, and utilizing his exhausted legs now. Actually manage to stand up again. Damn was that actually a pain to preform. His body was done, ish. Sort of, as he would limp over to the bed of his cell and attempt to successfully lie down inside of it. Internally he felt like he was bleeding nearly, though in reality he was not. As he'd fall back into the embrace of exhaustion and his own tiredness. All this training was beginning to have a positive impact on himself and his own capabilities. Could he break his own self imposed limits? That was a question Byron would answer himself the day he managed to really push himself to his maximum. The idea of it was a interesting one. To strive to be the very best and to be successful in the end of it. Up until now, Byron never had a really clear goal in his life, or something he aimed to strive for beyond "fix people". With his new capabilities, he had to figure out something he would do. Or just what he'd do with what he was able to do right now.

Maybe he could make a difference, maybe he could do alot of things, or maybe he wa s just tired as hell. Byron would proceed to collapse, figuring all of this was just way too damn much for his head right now.

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Byron was laying in his prison bed right now. Exhausted for the most part from the ordeal he had just endured which was training. The sun shined through the small window of the cell he was in, which began to wake him up, as the sunlight beamed on his face and made him pretty much wake the hell up. There was some clanging on the bars nearby as well, which turned out to be some local prisoners getting rowdy. THis annoyed the hell out of Byron due to it interrupting his actual sleep. However, there was no way on this damn planet he was going to manage to get back to sleep with the current ruckus. Yawning sleepily, he would force himself out of his bed, Up and at em as they always said. The early bird catches the worm?That phrase had some odd meaning to him now that he was a zoan devil fruit user who could actually....Eat worms if he wanted to. Eugh, that just wasn't his type of thing to be honest. It wasn't exactly cute to do that either.... Standing up off the bed now and walking off of it, he would go into the center of the cell he was in.

Well....Now was a better time to get started than never, if he didn't get started now. There was no way he'd get started later. his soreness was beginning to heal for sure because of the rest that he had undertaken overnight. Which helped tremendously. Byron would make a quick note in his head to avoid straining himself whatsoever unless it was absolutely necessary. As the okama would lie down on his back, getting himself ready in order to prepare for his exercise and to really push his ass to it's maximum Limit. As he'd get down to preform some more crunches, the burn from yesterday was still stinging into him, but damn was that not going to stop him right now. He had to get stronger..... For himself, if he couldn't last at all in a fight, none of what he did up to this point in time mean't anything.

As he would start to go forward an dback, his abdomin flexing hard with each crunch, sweat beading down his forehead. He would breath in and out steadily, pacing himself so that he would not go down quickly like the last time. Albeit this was also putting some pressure on his back and beginning to annoy him. Though Byron continued to persevere through his own inner struggle right now. If he could do it, if others out there could do it. Nothing was stopping him from achieving his own personal dreams and striving for what he wanted. To become stronger and surpass his current state. As he would fall back midway. Spontaneously tired, panting on the ground as his chest rose in and out. Hngh, Training was always going to be frustrating, but the pain was what it was all about. He wouldn't be kept down by it, starting to slowly rise up, he would move over to the bars of his cell, and proceed to pull himself up and down from them. Albeit it would be a difficult motion that he wasn't used to doing as much. His strength involving it had increased, as Byron found himself able to do multiple of them now. Keeping a good pace as he went back and forth upwards. No hesitation, only blind persistence within his eyes with the type of gaze anyone who saw him was capable of seeing from him. He'd eventually fall backwards from the pullups he was doing, probably would break his goddamn back from how stupidly he was going about this. His parents would whip the shit out of him if they could see the state he was in.

It was as if he could mentally hear his father shouting for him to be a man, to not be "a faggot". To not be "a mangirl". He wasn't any of those words, he was just a guy who wanted to be a girl, in a world that didn't have the technology nor means to make him one. Though.... Byron wouldn't let himself be hurt by such words, words never mean't anything to him, as all they were was truly words produced out of someone's mouth. They weren't swords or knives, and sure as hell didn't cut into you like them. As Byron proceeded to sit down against the wall, and almost meditate. Thinking deeply.

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It was the middle of his meditation, and things were going pretty well,as The okama was beginning to understand himself on a deeper and much more personal level off of what he was doing. It was like he was being enlightened, heh. Weren't owls supposed to be wise?He didn't exactly feel so much more intelligent off of the devil fruit which he accidentally ate. It was up to him to expand his own personal intelligence. Though as he was meditating, he would hear the bars open, which would cause him to open his own eyes and stand up. It appeared another prisoner was put in the same cell as him, and told to piss off and rot by the guard who had escorted him in, as Byron would look at the man and analyze him. A dark skinned man with a beanie of some kind on and a cigarette in his mouth. Who would begin to speak, getting unusually close to Byron and in fact, getting up in his face rather closely. Which would cause the okama to feel very uncomfortable and in fact disturbed like hell that this was going on. Just what was the man's intentions?


Now we can do this the easy way or the hard wayyy. The choice is yours!

...Byron in all honesty was confused by what this guy meant. Just what exactly was he getting at, but by the sudden lick of his lips and the way he was eyeing byron right now. He had to assume the worst. EW....... Quickly though, the man seemed to leap at him, attempting to pin him against the wall and work his way against his clothes. Had byron been a defenceless small time criminal he definitely would have been at this man's mercy, but he was a martial artist at heart. As when the man turned him into the wall and tried to hold him there, Byron with his larger strength would elbow the man in his face.Causing him to move back all pissed the hell off, clutching his nose. Oh so you wanna do it the haaaard way white boy.Hequickly would proceed to do a 180 backwards kick in order to try to daze Byron, hitting him across the face. Though it did not do much damage, the attempted rapist would try to jump at and grab him, Byron though. Would transform his hands into his own special talons, and proceed to claw into the man's sides, cutting him with ease and causing his attempted raper to back away. Now bleeding from his sides and surprised as how Byron was indeed a goddamn devil fruit user. Trying to back away slightly, after realizing who he had just attacked. The man would be cornered against the wall himself now. No where to flee and left with Byron, the murderous Owl Okama.

As all that could be heard that day was screaming and the sound of someone being torn apart. Byron had continued his workout despite the interference of the new prisoner. The guards in fact didn't even so much as bat an eye at his death. He was just a small time criminal that was scum in all of their eyes. The okama would proceed to preform some type of jumping jack which was meant to train his endurance and speed. Which would be preformed by him spreading himself out like a star as he jumped up and down, constantly. At a one-two, one-two pace so that he could keep himself from going down so quick. A important thing Byron was still really getting in his damn head despite his skill level was his pacing ability. He never really did so well when it came to keeping his stamina and his energy up throughout a fight, or just about through any form of task or event that required constant physical effort. Byron really did waste unnecessary energy in most of his battles, but old habits died hard. As it took constant effort for the okama to learn truly how to pace his own movements and breathing, to keep calm with greater ease and in truth. Learn to actually exercise patience in combat and as a person. Being a rather busy day and he was exhausted. The Okama would sleep, now fufilled by what had gone on that day.

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