A smile creeps across over his contemplative expression as she answers. "Inaction is a choice yes. In most things actually. What we choose to let happen if it something we have the ability to influence is a form of agreement with whatever we let come to pass." A major sticking point for those who can make their will reality. "So it then begs the question when must be choose inaction. What makes allowing something to happen the correct choice." What makes inaction wise? It would seem he found his ethical second wind after a period of recovery.
Adjusting to find a more comfortable spot in the seat, to long idle causes pins and needles. "I think that was exactly what happened. Each everyone just let him to it, no spotlight, no show, no attention." And he raged himself right out the door. "He claimed to have a an order to his actions, a certain way of doing things. Much like yourself actually. Only he made his commitments and then immediately stormed out." It certainty left an impression.
The art he understand is a morbid one, he is judged for it, who would spend there life making stones for the dead. Either someone with ghoulish, sick fascinations or an opportunist looking to exploit the grieving. I've had to deal with that one more then once. "It is a form of creation very few appreciate, it is refreshing to meet someone who can see past the stigma and grasp the insight of why I would do it." A single simple nod. "You do not want one, I understand." It was not a promise not to. "There are many ways to mourn, many ways to feel connected to those who pass, would you rather we plant a tree?" That was getting popular again. After his impassioned statements her simple answer also seemed like a reversal of how their conversation had been up to this point. He smirks. Very good.
This was after all her desire he had merely tried to facilitate it. so he shrugs. "Alone with others, to do it at all is your wish, your choice so in this regard, only you can know what is the best way forward." So she does understand. "Yes that is what I refer to, and comparatively there is no such thing as true freedom." All else was just pushing against the lie, the briefest of moments. You could draw closer to it, connect with it even but truly experience freedom from the lie. That is the shared element of every path.
That, that's actually a good question. "I do not actually know." He looks mildly surprised he just hadn't thought to question it. "It was an event running and I was on the look out for seasonal changes." How to say he dipped into places around the city to search of supernatural activity. "It was a well done event and had reasonable attendance, how many were German I don't know." Some must have been surely. "I think the cultural trappings and traditions were meant to make it German." How he understood these things anyway.
He shrugs it could be him, it could be her likely a mix of both. Either way room for improvement.
Once more he seems unphased. "Killing is killing is it not, if you deal out death are you one to judge how it is done?" Death as it functions is part of the lie, each life lost strengthening the perception of how it works. "Why should ending life in one way be acceptable, yet wrong in another just because it is not how you do it?" Every arcana had a myriad of ways to inflict pain and death upon others , all different, all truth.