“Right, first things first, I need clothes.” Remiel said. He closed his eyes and imagined clothes forming on his body. Remiel opened his eyes to see that nothing had happened.

“Fuck.”

Remiel looked around. He was behind some buildings; the sounds of traffic were a few yards away. Spotting a dumpster, he decided to scrounge for some clothes.

Opening that dumpster was probably the worst thing Remiel could do. The smell washed over him like a deluge of filth and grime. Rooting around in the waste, he found nothing even faintly resembling clothing.

Remiel clambered out of the bin, nose firmly clamped shut. He thought for a bit and then snapped his fingers.

“I’ve got it!”

He pulled up a trash bag, ripped it open, and emptied of its contents. Remiel then fashioned a makeshift smock out of the bag.

“At least I’ll blend in with all the crazies in this city.” Remiel said as he ambled off down the street, still shellshocked from the fall.