Camp Jupiter Classified Quotes

“As usual, when tragedy strikes, the powerless and disenfranchised are the ones who suffer most.”
― Rick Riordan, Camp Jupiter Classified: A Probatio's Journal

“(Blaise, Janice…What is it with godly parents and their demigod kids’ names? Who’s next? A kid named Roman?)”
― Rick Riordan, The Trials of Apollo: Camp Jupiter Classified: A Probatio's Journal

“made a friend in the Fourth today! Her name is Janice, and she’s the daughter of—wait for it—Janus, the two-faced god of choices, doorways, and beginnings and endings.”
― Rick Riordan, The Trials of Apollo: Camp Jupiter Classified: A Probatio's Journal

“Would our situation have got so out of control if people had opened up and shared what they knew sooner? Maybe.”
― Rick Riordan, Camp Jupiter Classified: A Probatio's Journal

“Aurum and Argentum have a special talent: they can sense when someone is lying. (Their other special talent is eating jelly beans.)”
― Rick Riordan, Camp Jupiter Classified: A Probatio's Journal

“As if things weren't confusing enough, startled Lares kept materializing to see what all the commotion was about - and then dematerializing when they saw what all the commotion was about. So brave, those ancient purple spirits.”
― Rick Riordan, Camp Jupiter Classified: A Probatio's Journal

“When I heard the ear-piercing scream tonight, I figured someone in the Fourth was having a nightmare of the impending-danger variety. Then I realized the shrieks weren’t coming from the barracks but from inside the bathhouse. For our safety, nobody is supposed to be in the baths after eleven, because there are no lifeguards on duty. Janice says the real reason the doors are locked is to thwart romantically inclined legionnaires from getting up to shenanigans in there. That thwarting can be thwarted, though, if you know about the secret entrance to the main pool. Which everybody does, although not many people use it, because you have to swim underwater through a narrow concrete pipe, then squeeze through a small mesh gate that leads into the pool. You’d better hope you’re an underwater-breathing descendent of Neptune if you get stuck in there. Apparently, a girl and a boy from the First Cohort thought the risk was worth it, because they sneaked in via the not-so-secret entrance tonight. I’m thinking their lovey-dovey mood evaporated when they surfaced, though. Because dead rats. Hundreds of them. Floating in the pool. Blocking the hot-springs water supply. Clogging the drains. Even hanging from the basket for used towels. I can’t imagine anything more totally, completely, scream-inducingly disgusting. And mysterious, too, because no one can explain how so many rats got in there so quickly. The filtration system is shut off when the baths close, so they weren’t pumped in with the water. And the lifeguard swears the place was clean when he locked up at eleven. The couple sneaked in around eleven fifteen. Could someone have broken in and distributed all those rats in just fifteen minutes? Didn’t seem likely.”
― Rick Riordan, The Trials of Apollo: Camp Jupiter Classified: A Probatio's Journal

“Someone has been messing with my stuff! Specifically, with my Mercury action figure. Before Janice and I left to visit Temple Hill, I posed him like the statue in Great-Granddad’s sanctuary—leaning casually against a post, ankles crossed, his sack of coins in one hand and his caduceus in the crook of his other elbow. But now his legs are bent as if he’s about to spring into action. One arm is raised overhead, his caduceus held like a spear. Posed like that, he doesn’t look like Mercury anymore. He looks like a warrior. Almost like Mars, minus the threatening snarl. And his coin purse is missing. I’m sure someone’s just playing a prank on me, but still…I’m going to ask Janice if I should say something to our centurions.”
― Rick Riordan, The Trials of Apollo: Camp Jupiter Classified: A Probatio's Journal

“Then she went over Camp Jupiter’s ground rules, stuff like no taking a giant eagle out for a joy ride, no plotting to overthrow your praetor, no short-sheeting the senators’ togas no matter how hilarious a prank that might be. Punishments for rule-breaking range from extra chores to banishment to being sewn into a bag with angry weasels. (That last one got a solid yikes from me.)”
― Rick Riordan, The Trials of Apollo: Camp Jupiter Classified: A Probatio's Journal

“Even the ceiling pays tribute, with eleven identical and bizarre-looking shields that form the letter M.”
― Rick Riordan, The Trials of Apollo: Camp Jupiter Classified: A Probatio's Journal

“Yes, sports fans, in just one session in the Colosseum, I managed to slice my hand with a gladius and stab my thigh with a pugio. I twanged my cheek with a bowstring and pierced my foot with an arrow. (Note to self: Never wear sandals to weapons practice again.) I launched a weird weighted-dart thingy called a plumbata into the stands. And for my grand finale, I clocked my instructor in the head with the butt of my pilum when I reared back to throw.”
― Rick Riordan, The Trials of Apollo: Camp Jupiter Classified: A Probatio's Journal

“learned this last lesson while checking out Mercury’s temple after my delicious and nutritious breakfast. Compared to the dinky shrines of the minor gods and goddesses, Great-Granddad’s place isn’t too shabby. A rectangular structure with marble columns all around the outside, an ornate fresco above the entrance, and inside, a life-size statue of the god himself. The weird thing happened when I approached the altar. Someone had put two message bins there in honor of Mercury’s role as messenger to the gods. The bin marked OUTGOING was overflowing with notes, but the INCOMING one was empty, a sad reminder that our communications have flatlined. Still, I added a note of my own to the outbox. Just a little Hey, Great-Granddad, what’s the word from Olympus? I was about to leave when I heard a fluttering sound. A piece of paper had appeared in the INCOMING bin. Written on it was the Roman numeral twelve—XII—and nothing else.”
― Rick Riordan, The Trials of Apollo: Camp Jupiter Classified: A Probatio's Journal

“Things I learned today: 1) Oatmeal is not the preferred breakfast food among campers. At least, that’s the impression I got from the disgusted looks when the aurae delivered my bowl of it this morning. Well, to each their own, I say.”
― Rick Riordan, The Trials of Apollo: Camp Jupiter Classified: A Probatio's Journal

“Good news: Camp Jupiter helped save the world! ☺ Bad news: Camp Jupiter lost a lot of people while helping save the world. ☹”
― Rick Riordan, The Trials of Apollo: Camp Jupiter Classified: A Probatio's Journal

“After a hot debate (we were meeting in the forges because Mamurius wanted in on the plan and he refused to leave that workspace), I convinced them we should hold off going to Frank and Reyna until all the pieces of my plan were in place.”
― Rick Riordan, Camp Jupiter Classified: A Probatio's Journal

“The star of the show is the murmillo champion, a swarthy bit of beefcake named Ricardo. If the posters plastered around camp are accurate, he sword-fights wearing a teeny-tiny loincloth . . . and not much else. I'm praying murmillo is Latin for he who wears undergarments beneath his loincloth. Because if he falls down . . .”
― Rick Riordan, Camp Jupiter Classified: A Probatio's Journal

“There comes a moment in every young probatio's life when she realizes she should have peed before putting on her armour. For me, that moment came when I reached the top of the watchtower for my first shift on sentry duty.”
― Rick Riordan, Camp Jupiter Classified: A Probatio's Journal

“Then she went over Camp Jupiter's ground rules, stuff like no taking a giant eagle out for a joy ride, n plotting to overthrow your praetor, no short-sheeting the senator's togas no matter how hilarious a prank that might be. Punishments for rule-breaking range from extra chores to banishment to being sewn into a bag with angry weasels. (That last one got a solid yikes from me,”
― Rick Riordan, Camp Jupiter Classified: A Probatio's Journal

“I made a friend in the Fourth today! Her name is Janice, and she's the daughter of - wait for it - Janus, the two-faced god of choices, doorways, and beginnings and endings. (Blaise, Janice . . . What is it with godly parents and their demigod kids' names? Who's next? A kid named Roman?)”
― Rick Riordan, Camp Jupiter Classified: A Probatio's Journal

“But the one that really spoke to me was the Temple of Mars Ultor. I mean,who wouldn't dig that red marble crypt with its cast-iron doors? And, inside, that massive statue of the Avenger (no, not one of those Avengers), his scarred face scowling and his spear raised as if to strike whoever dares to enter. Let's not forget the display wall of human skulls and assorted weapons, from the kind that slice and dice to the kind that leave bullet-shaped holes. Even the ceiling pays tribute, with eleven identical and bizarre-looking shields that form the letter M.
That military man-cave - sorry, god-crypt was built to intimidate, but the decor was so over-the-top that I broke into giggles while looking at it. I got out of there before I lost control, though. I'm not stupid enough to risk insulting the war god.”
― Rick Riordan, Camp Jupiter Classified: A Probatio's Journal

“I once saw a T-shirt that read EVERYTHING HUTS AND I'M DYING. I need one of those. That way, when someone asks how my first weapons practice went, I can just point to my chest. Because ow.”
― Rick Riordan, Camp Jupiter Classified: A Probatio's Journal

“(only an issue if we’re shoulder to shoulder beneath that shell of shields with a garlic-scented mouth-breather). We’re in the”
― Rick Riordan, Camp Jupiter Classified: A Probatio's Journal

“I don’t know if that’s true, but if it is … mind = blown.”
― Rick Riordan, Camp Jupiter Classified: A Probatio's Journal

“But he just grabbed his sack and his trash picker and sloshed off. I showed him, though. I trucked right after him down that tunnel … and instantly got lost. Ha-ha!”
― Rick Riordan, Camp Jupiter Classified: A Probatio's Journal

“(Come on, people! Reduce, reuse, recycle, remember?),”
― Rick Riordan, Camp Jupiter Classified: A Probatio's Journal

“Yes, sports fans, in just one session in the Colosseum, I managed to slice my hand with a gladius and stab my thigh with a pugio. I twanged my cheek with a bowstring and pierced my foot with an arrow. (Note to self: never wear sandals to weapons practice again.) I launched a weird weighted-dart thingy called a plumbata into the stands. And for my grand finale I clocked my instructor on the head with the butt of my pilum when I reared back to throw. (She turned it into a teachable moment about why we each wear a galea, immediately followed by a second teachable moment in which she explained galea means helmet.)”
― Rick Riordan, Camp Jupiter Classified: A Probatio's Journal

“Yes, sports fans, in just one session in the Colosseum, I managed to slice my hand with a gladius and stab my thigh with a pugio”
― Rick Riordan, Camp Jupiter Classified: A Probatio's Journal