She is the bar part of the bar. She is not exactly shielded, but apart from some information she freely tells anyone who asks whether they do it out loud or not (basic features of the premises, the offer of a free drink, the unavailability of menus, etcetera) it is all buried so deeply that any probe attempting to collect it without Bar conversationally participating in the exchange would just get lost or snap off.

Chocolate coffee, suggests Bar. With cinnamon and nutmeg. The passage of time is typically but not absolutely reliably paused.

'Eh, I'm sure I can get an excused absence when I explain what I was doing. Interesting things like this don't happen every day, and you look safe enough that Dad wouldn't be retroactively overprotective about it. I haven't really had coffee very much, but I'll defer to your judgement without too much trepidation."

A mug appears. There's whipped cream.

You're welcome.

'Pity Emily's out at the moment, I'm sure she'd love this,' Edie reflected not-entirely-internally. 'Although--hm. This place isn't on a planet, is it.'

Not as such.

'So it probably doesn't have a proper native magnetic field. That would definitely be a downside for her.'

Some people who normally have reason to find environments like this one uncomfortable do not in fact have that problem in Milliways, but I cannot guarantee either way how she would react if she were here.

'Not uncomfortable, exactly. At least I don't think so, it's not like Emily--or Dad, for that matter--have ever been off Earth. But--' she briefly summarizes her bizarre family situation and her sister and father's mutation. 'I have no idea how they'd react, honestly, but it probably wouldn't be as bad as strongly variant temperatures or pressures or something.'

Bar has no comment.

'Moot point, anyway,' Edie concludes.

The door opens.

Edie turns around. "Oh, hello," she says out loud. "This is Milliways! It's some kind of transdimensional bar. The actual bar is a person, her name's just Bar."

"I don't actually know what that means, but I think it's probably mistaken. Buh, how do I put this in words, verbal communication's so inefficient."

If that's really the problem...

'Ooh! (nonverbal conceptual summary of Milliways) I didn't realize you were telepathic too, your mind's all (psychic impression of her shielding from the outside)'

Most people don't have shields, do they? Isn't someone with shields more likely to be a subtle artist?

'Most people don't, but you don't have to be telepathic to have them. (psychic impression of the shielding her father uses when he doesn't want mental company but isn't wearing the helmet) And you didn't feel like (psychic impression of another telepath who doesn't want mental company). Is subtle arts the name of your kind of telepathy?'

"...Telepathy is the most common and salient manifestation of the subtle arts," corrects the subtle artist slowly.

"Ooh, what else can you do? I'm just a telepath. Well, I say just, it's fantastic and I wouldn't want to give it up. But it doesn't come with extras."

"I have a little telekinetic potential but no noticeable pyrokinesis."