There was a charming idiom that Nelyna had picked up from one of her human clients years ago; another day, another dollar. A colorful little idiom meant to make light of uneventful routine. Perhaps it was because she was so fond of the man, but the acolyte always remembered that expression whenever she walked in to start her shift as a greeter. Brushing herself off to look as presentable as possible, she took a few deep breaths to steady herself and turned on her smile as the first visitor strode through the door, a young drell looking suitably awestruck at the surroundings.
"Welcome to the Consort's Chambers, my name is Nelyna," she said dutifully. "Are you on our client list today?"
"Oh uh, no," the drell said sheepishly, holding up a bag. "I just have a delivery. For a Sha'ira."
Nelyna was slightly surprised. It wasn't unusual for orders to come here for the consort, since many of her clients had talk that ran so long they needed to order a meal mid-session, but this was pretty early for that. Still, not her place to judge, so she signed the electronic receipt and sent the drell on his way, making sure he was left a generous tip. Taking the greasy looking fare in hand with a hint of disdain, she quickly ducked into the back to drop off the meal.
As Nelyna paused to make sure she didn't walk in on anyone in a compromising position, she was surprised to hear not the usual hushed conversations or honeyed words, but the sound of gulps and chewing. Turning the corner, she saw the great and wise Sha'ira, the Consort, sitting very much alone at a table, devouring a large meat patty slathered in sauces. What were those human delicacies called again, hamburgers?
"Oh, I'm sorry mistress," Nelyna hurriedly said as the consort glanced up at her. "This must be for someone else..."
"No no, it's for me. Just leave it there," Sha'ira said thickly, gesturing next to what she noticed was a small pile of fried potatoes cut into thin shapes.
"Oh...okay then," the acolyte said hesitantly, blissfully unaware as she turned her back and left that she would be receiving more visitors from delivery boys then clients today. It wasn't her place to judge; she was sure the Consort knew what she was doing. Indeed, there was a method to what appeared to be mere mindless gluttony for Sha'ira. If the rumors from her well-placed connections were to be believed, a seismic change was in store for Asari society.
Such changes were rare of course; the asari were infamous for their stagnancy and patience, taking decades or sometimes centuries to make meaningful changes to their societies. Sometimes though, something so radical or revolutionary came up that it would sweep through the asari race faster then anyone could ever hope to catch. One such change was brewing, and while it wasn't really known to the galaxy at large just yet, Sha'ira's numerous contacts ensured she wouldn't be able to miss the latest trend brewing under the surface.
The asari were going plus-sized.
Admittedly, it would be difficult for anyone to predict that what was at that point a small social movement insisting being fat was better then being skinny, but Sha'ira hadn't gotten this far as the Consort by underestimating such movements. Her reputation was built not just on being charming and having connections, but by being what amounted to the perfect ideal asari; wise, beautiful, intelligent, the true pinnacle of her species. Part of that, naturally, was staying ahead of the huge changes in her society and leading them instead of following them. Thus, if the asari believed that big was beautiful, then Sha'ira needed to be the biggest.
At least, the Consort reassured herself as she finished off the burger and reached for the other takeout bag, doing this would be far more enjoyable then when piercings became popular.
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