Peter swallows, willing his eyes to move back up to meet the other's. A young-looking man, maybe a little bit older than himself. At least in appearance; Peter knows too-well that there might be more beneath the surface.

"I think it's religious, yeah." His voice betrays his nerves, but he answers truthfully. "Think it means... rock, or something like that. I'm not, uh. Much of a religious person, though."

He doesn't have much feeling for his name one way or another. Or he never used to. These days he hangs on a little more, because these days he can feel it slipping away. More and more he wakes up and has to remember the shape of it.

...The subject is on names, and he doesn't want to ask. He knows he has to. Paimon is a second pulse up under his skin, taut and so alive.

"Yours is.. Chrollo? Chrollo Lucilfer? Does it.. have a meaning?"