Aziraphale smiles demurely and falls silent, giving Molly a bit of time to take in the changing surroundings. Perhaps he'll have better luck here, the angel muses. The people of the Nexus were far more blasé about such things.

"Well, She is the creator of Everything. So far as I know, She can handle it, and she has us angels to help Her out as necessary." Although perhaps a little less needed as Aziraphale had once thought. "It sounds as though your world has a lot of magic in it, that's not the same for mine, aside from a few humans here or there."

The angel turns a corner onto a street that seems devoted entirely to clothiers, with some signs advertising tailors sprinkled amongst them. "Here we are, then, I can't vouch for any specific tailor, but they all seem rather competent. Er... what do you intend to do afterwards? Do tieflings need to eat? Sleep? Well, you must, you are mortal..."