[He will be thanking his goddess for the fact Regis doesn't live on the eighth floor of any Spire the moment he hangs up. He did his time climbing stairs, thank you.]
I will be there shortly.
[Hanging up now, which takes him a moment because he refuses to learn how to be proficient with technology. In bad news, it's still cold enough that he's wearing a sweater rather than his usual jacket; however, his tabard mostly covers the unsightly design on the front, so he can't complain too much. He simply wouldn't want to embarrass himself or his goddess with improper attire when performing his duty as a healer.
Thankfully, Regis isn't too far away, so after he gathers his satchel, a jar, and some ingredients for tea -- just in case -- Carlisle makes his way over, knocking on the door solidly before straightening his glasses and smoothing his hair, trying to make himself look presentable despite the false gods' poor taste in winter wear. He's only a little winded -- at least it was only three flights of stairs rather than eight.]
[voice] → [action]
I will be there shortly.
[Hanging up now, which takes him a moment because he refuses to learn how to be proficient with technology. In bad news, it's still cold enough that he's wearing a sweater rather than his usual jacket; however, his tabard mostly covers the unsightly design on the front, so he can't complain too much. He simply wouldn't want to embarrass himself or his goddess with improper attire when performing his duty as a healer.
Thankfully, Regis isn't too far away, so after he gathers his satchel, a jar, and some ingredients for tea -- just in case -- Carlisle makes his way over, knocking on the door solidly before straightening his glasses and smoothing his hair, trying to make himself look presentable despite the false gods' poor taste in winter wear. He's only a little winded -- at least it was only three flights of stairs rather than eight.]