Volgin watched the Fury circle, but did not keep pace. If the man wanted to ambush him from behind then that would merely make things more interesting. Though he didn't think the Fury would do so. That was a coward's way, and the Fury was no coward.
He considered how to answer the question. More precisely, he considered how to answer the question in a way that the Fury would understand. Of course, he could speak about duty and responsibility and loyalty and the dozens of other reasons why he had made this his life's pursuit. Because for Volgin, it was not any one thing, and any one reason why. It was many, as complex and intertwined as the politics he was forced to practice in pursuit of his goals.
But that was not what the Fury had asked, nor was it what he meant. Volgin found it amusing that he was such an item of speculation for the Cobras, who apparently saw things in such a clear-cut manner that all their motivations could be summed up in single word. Single emotions.
Apparently, they expected everyone else to be as clear-cut.
Volgin's frown was like weathered stone, deeply etched. Perhaps, he thought, slowly, it could be that clear-cut.
His was a thankless task. There was nothing that he would have then that he couldn't have now, given the sheer amount of wealth at his command. He could own nations, fleets, any number of insignificant material things, if he chose. But those things were meaningless to him.
And even after he controlled the world, well, he still had to run it. Another thankless task, to say the least. He almost wasn't looking forward to that part of it. Contemplating the journey itself was far more pleasant than the destination.
No. He knew why, though he had never realized it before.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2006-11-25 11:25 pm (UTC)He considered how to answer the question. More precisely, he considered how to answer the question in a way that the Fury would understand. Of course, he could speak about duty and responsibility and loyalty and the dozens of other reasons why he had made this his life's pursuit. Because for Volgin, it was not any one thing, and any one reason why. It was many, as complex and intertwined as the politics he was forced to practice in pursuit of his goals.
But that was not what the Fury had asked, nor was it what he meant. Volgin found it amusing that he was such an item of speculation for the Cobras, who apparently saw things in such a clear-cut manner that all their motivations could be summed up in single word. Single emotions.
Apparently, they expected everyone else to be as clear-cut.
Volgin's frown was like weathered stone, deeply etched. Perhaps, he thought, slowly, it could be that clear-cut.
His was a thankless task. There was nothing that he would have then that he couldn't have now, given the sheer amount of wealth at his command. He could own nations, fleets, any number of insignificant material things, if he chose. But those things were meaningless to him.
And even after he controlled the world, well, he still had to run it. Another thankless task, to say the least. He almost wasn't looking forward to that part of it. Contemplating the journey itself was far more pleasant than the destination.
No. He knew why, though he had never realized it before.
Volgin turned to meet the Fury's flickering gaze.
"Love," he said, simply.