Rick Riordan Quotes About Son Of Neptune
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Her name badge read: Hello! My name is DIE, DEMIGOD SCUM!
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The thing about plummetting downhill at fifty miles an hour on a snack platter - if you realize it's a bad idea when you're halfway down, it's too late.
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Look," Percy continued, "I know I'm new here. I know you guys don't like to mention the massacre in the nineteen eighties-" "He mentioned it!" one of the ghosts whimpered.
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Tyson, Frank is a descendant of Poseidon." "Brother!" Tyson crushed Frank in a hug. Percy stifled a laugh. "Actually he's more like a great-great-...Oh, never mind. Yeah, he's your brother." "Thanks." Frank mumbled through a mouthful of flannel.
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Part of their problem was Percy. He fought like a demon, whirling through the defender's ranks in a completely unorthodox style, rolling under their feet, slashing with his sword instead of stabbing like a Roman would, whacking campers with the flat of his blade, and generally causing mass panic.
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They're Lares. House gods." "House gods," Percy said. "Like...smaller than real gods, but larger than apartment gods?
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Two hundred Romans, and no one’s got a pen? Never mind!" He slung his M16 onto his back and pulled out a hand grenade. There were many screaming Romans. Then the hand grenade morphed into a ballpoint pen, and Mars began to write. Frank looked at Percy with wide eyes. He mouthed: Can your sword do grenade form? Percy mouthed back, No. Shut up.
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Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tyson pounding the Earthborn into the ground like a game of whack-a-mole. Ella was fluttering above him, dodging missiles and calling out advice: "The groin. The Earthborn's groin is sensitive." SMASH! "Good. Yes. Tyson found its groin.
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There's another problem," Percy said. "I'm not good with air travel. It's dangerous for a son of Neptune." "You'll have to risk it...and so will I," Frank said. "By the way, we're related." Percy almost stumbled off the roof. "What?
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Just his luck he was related to this grubby old dude. He hoped all sons of Neptune didn't share the same fate. First, you start carrying a man satchel. Next thing you know, you're running around in a bathrobe and pink bunny slippers, chasing chickens with a weed whacker.
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Frank nodded grimly. “Well…any goddess who throws a Ding Dong at a giant can’t be all bad. Let’s go.
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Percy scowled. "I-I know you." Nico raised his eyebrows. "Do you?
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Elections only happen in two ways," Reyna said. "Either the legion raises someone on a shield after a major success on the battlefield-and we haven't had any major battles-or we hold a ballot on the evening of June 24, at the Feast of Fortuna. That's in five days." Percy frowned. "You have a feast for tuna?
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You speak horse?" Hazel asked. "Speaking to horses is a Poseidon thing," Percy said. "Uh, I mean a Neptune thing." "Then you and Arion should get along fine," Hazel said. "He's a son of Neptune too." Percy turned pale. "Excuse me?
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Because I know you, Percy Jackson. In many ways, you are impulsive, but when it comes to your friends, you are as constant as a compass needle. You are unswervingly loyal, and you inspire loyalty. You are the glue that will unite the seven.
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Percy frowned "You have a feast for tuna?
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