Your wedding was a blur. When you close your eyes, you see the silhouette of an event you were sitting in on instead. You try to look down at your feet, but they were tucked under you. Hiding, as if to say, "Don't look." A strong, white wind blows across the room.

What part of your body reacts to its chilling embrace?

My large mouth and full lips, adorned with red lipstick

My long hair, wild and free, with petals tangled in it from the day before

My strong, bridged nose, crooked and with a hump near the eyes

You stir awake in a big, blue bed. Blue cold and empty sheets. Beside you is a thick ring of keys. A bronze key, covered in blue enamel, shaped like a peacock feather takes you to a salon. You are immediately welcomed by a faint mist. Party guests, transforming into peacocks, kiss and play with each other in a haze.

The dizzying nature of the room whispers for you to stay.

You allow yourself to get lost in the alluring haze of the intimate gathering. You stay. You perform. You let them enjoy you.

This haze of thick forgetfulness is a lie. You hold fast to your duties, your community, and your traditions. You leave the room.

The room fills with the heat of writhing bodies, the mating calls of peacocks, and the taste of feathers.

The room coos to you, asking you to shed your skin and be reborn anew.

You allow your body to be transformed, your lips elongating into a beak. A peacock's cry escapes your mouth, as you lose yourself in the mass of bodies.

The oppressive heat and the overstimulation of your senses lay bare the room's demand. You leave a part of yourself behind as you flee, refusing to change.

You find yourself on the highest floor of the manor. The central room has two gloriously velvet blue doors. A golden plaque above the door reads, "The Lord's Chambers". You recall your husband's demands.

He implored you to find no curiosity with only one key: the key to his chambers.

In defiance of your husband, you unlock the door and brace yourself for the horrors you may find inside.

Ever the obedient spouse, you leave the key untouched. You merely peer through the keyhole, prepared to find nothing of import.

You stir awake in a big, blue bed. Blue cold and empty sheets. Beside you is a thick ring of keys. A large, ornate, gold key, with a handle that looks like butterfly wings takes you to a maze of mirrors. Most of the mirrors appear to be accurate. Most of them. A distorted reflection of you speaks in a voice that is not your own.

It offers you a chance to change parts of yourself that others look upon with disappointment and disdain.

You put your hands up to the mirror and push. There's a slight falter of the glass and you step between the cracks, allowing the reflection to change you, to become you, to replace you.

You shatter the glass with the intention to silence the reflection. The shards cut your arms, but you manage to escape intact. You are still you.

The distorted reflection steps out of the cracks in the mirror, a perfect version of you. Its hair is tamed, held tightly in a single plait, neatly adorned with fresh flowers.

You watch as it walks away, preparing to replace you.

In the silence of the mirror, relief washes over you. No voices demand from you. Here, you can be as wild and free as you desire, alone though you may be.

You put your hands up to the mirror and push once more. The glass refuses to falter. You realize you are trapped, doomed to never again feel the wind in your hair.

You find yourself on the highest floor of the manor. The central room has two gloriously velvet blue doors. A golden plaque above the door reads, "The Lord's Chambers". You recall your husband's demands.

He implored you to find no curiosity with only one key: the key to his chambers.

In defiance of your husband, you unlock the door and brace yourself for the horrors you may find inside.

Ever the obedient spouse, you leave the key untouched. You merely peer through the keyhole, prepared to find nothing of import.

You stir awake in a big, blue bed. Blue cold and empty sheets. Beside you is a thick ring of keys. A charcoal black key, shaped like a skeleton takes you to a dungeon. A humid, seemingly unending corridor of prison cells awaits you. A guard rouses from sleep at the sound of your entry. You know he has left others here to rot at the behest of your husband.

He doesn't seem to recognize you.

You know who you are. You stab the guard, mutilating his body. He will never be able to stifle you.

You have to play the role that you've been given. You know your place. You quietly leave the room, vowing never to step out of line.

The smell of iron pierces your nostrils. You step back, blade in bloodied hand, a dead guard at your feet.

Your nose leads you to the source of the smell.

The guard's blood, a trail of iron, leads you down the corridor. Your violence has freed you.

The prison bars, pillars of iron, lead you into a cell. Your violence has trapped you.

You find yourself on the highest floor of the manor. The central room has two gloriously velvet blue doors. A golden plaque above the door reads, "The Lord's Chambers". You recall your husband's demands.

He implored you to find no curiosity with only one key: the key to his chambers.

In defiance of your husband, you unlock the door and brace yourself for the horrors you may find inside.

Ever the obedient spouse, you leave the key untouched. You merely peer through the keyhole, prepared to find nothing of import.

GUDIYA

a Bluebeard's Bride one-shot

a crooked nose. wild hair. parted lips. three aspects of a newly wedded bride cross the threshold into a life of horrors. will gudiya stay loyal to their husband?GUDIYA is an experimental TTRPG AP about the intergenerational trauma of colonization and racialized misogyny. Time-stamped content warnings can be found here.

No Thumbs

a hack of Everyone is John and You are a Anything inspired by GUDIYA

No Thumbs is a pick-up-and-play, comedic, competitive tabletop roleplaying game for 1 Game Master and 2-4 players.In No Thumbs, players play as different facets of a guest at Bluebeard’s manor attempting to complete their individual objectives as they find themself steadily transformed into a peacock. One person takes on the role of the Game Master, also known as the House.

[Click the image for the game]

Josephine Kim (none/she)

Co-Producer & Groundskeeper

Josephine is a facilitator that shines in the twilight, crafting unsettling moods to keep everyone on their toes. Her execution of surrealist imagery and scenarios makes GUDIYA a show that will leave you asking questions.

Hamnah Shahid (any/all)

Executive Producer & Performer

Hamnah is skilled at submerging the audience in the headspace of his characters by describing the sensations surrounding them. Her commitment to being decisive in GUDIYA elicits intense reactions around the table.

RK Wilde (they/them)

Performer

RK manifests their characters in ways that bring unexplored themes to light. In GUDIYA, they build contrast between characters that creates an enthralling dynamic throughout the show.

Noordin Ali Kadir (he/him)

Performer

Noordin Ali excels at embodying his characters to not only draw you into the story, but also to pull at your heartstrings. His ability to carve out impassioned scenes makes GUDIYA an emotional ride from start to finish.

Gwendolyn Kelly (she/her)

Marketing Manager

Gwendolyn is the marketing strategist behind the show’s social media content. Her cryptic, interactive teasers built suspense and intrigue befitting the show’s themes and encouraged audience engagement.

Stella Luna (she/they)

Graphic Designer

Stella is the talented graphic designer behind the show’s visuals. They made 40 (!!) separate overlays for GUDIYA alone to complement and elevate the show's themes. Stella's work adds a new layer of depth to the viewing experience.