Nikita Anne "Niki/Chimera" Kaprovika
Nikita Anne "Niki" Kaprovikai
Portrayed By Lyndall Jarvis
Gender Female
Date of Birth May 1, 1984
Age 25
Zodiac Sign Taurus
Aliases Niki, Chimera
Place of Birth Decatur, Georgia
Current Location New York City
Occupation Waitress
Known Relatives ???
Significant Other ???
Identity Secret
Known Abilities Pain/chemical stimuli transfer and absorption; Health/life transfer and absorption.
First Appearance ???


Niki, as she prefers to be called, is only a generation removed from her Serbian heritage, and four generations from Mother Russia. Her great grandfather immigrated from Serbia during World War I, landing himself in Georgia. That was before he hacked most of his family to bits and hung himself. It seemed to be a family thing. His son would do the same thing to Niki's grandmother— her father's mother, before putting a revolver between his teeth and pulling the trigger. Now, that doesn't really mean much for Niki herself, to be honest. All this generational domestic violence was just good to giggle at over some beer with drinkin' buddies. "Hey, ya think your family's psychotic? Lemme tell ya a li'l somethin' somethin'…" Really, she's heard worse. But not to be bettered, she'll also exaggerate the stories, among other things.

Slowly their family migrated north, eventually landing in Jersey and later, for Niki, in Manhattan. Her actual father was exceptionally sane, despite seeing his mother take a steak knife through the face. He is protective. But maybe he squeezed too tightly. His wife, Nikita's mother, was a critical woman. She cared, but she was nevertheless critical. Nikita was daddy's little girl— or maybe daddy's little weasel. Even when she got pregnant at 16, he tried to shelter her. Nikita's mother, however, vanquished her from the home. Disowned! But we'll be fair. If we rewind from the babymaking, Nikita was always a brat. Always an angry child, for seemingly no reason. Maybe it was the genes. Maybe it was the people she chose as friends and lovers. Maybe it was the old man who lived next door, who shot her childhood puppy because she wouldn't play the "I have candy in my pocket" game. Maybe it was the alcohol— and for a short time even, the drugs. Maybe it was her successful siblings, who were oh so perfect— Mr. Scholarship and Miss Married and Responsible. Maybe it was the heavy metal and punk music and violent video games. Who the hell knows? Point is, she probably drove her mother well beyond the breaking point long before she let Marty knock her up. Besides, mommy had two other perfectly well behaved, successful kids to fall back on— at least, that's what Nikki told herself.

Her father, a factory employee who made a decent salary bolting planes together for the government, snuck her money for several months while she waitressed at a local Bar and Grill so she could keep her rent up in a shitty apartment. Marty, a tattoo artist with loaded parents, promised to marry her and tell his parents about her once they had paid off his car and gave him access to his trust. As soon as he got that money, he was gone. He married some other bitch without Nikki even knowing about it until the pretty smiling whore knocked on her door and came to pick up his stuff, flashing the wedding band like a prize she had conquered through quick sex and monetary promises.

Okay, stop. Back up again. Puberty. Actually, no. Let's go farther. Man meets woman, woman and man… No, too far. Chimerism, in its biological form, happens when two twins fuse together as one person during early development in the womb. Technically, Nikita's internal organs— the tissue of her heart, her liver, and even part of her skeleton— is all her twin's genes. It explains her eyes. Her left is a deep brown, and her right a crystal blue. The reason this is important is that, had her twin developed separately, they would have both been mutants. However, due to this combining, she's got two sets of DNA, and therefore access to two different sets of mutations. Okay, let's jump forward a little to puberty now. She's partying hard already at 13— she was a late bloomer, for the record— drunk to all hell, and being a bit of a whore herself. She starts mackin' on some other chick's guy and— well, it's not like he didn't have to return the affection, but alcohol makes people do odd things (not that she needs alcohol for that, but it helps)— chick walks in on the tongue wrestling, and takes a swing at Niki. Landed. But, instead of Niki feeling the hit, she merely felt the exchange of kinetics— like someone just pushing her head back. The chick stumbled backwards as she feels her own blow. The two get in a fight, and yet somehow everything this furious girl does— including tearing an earring from her ear lobe, doesn't affect Niki. Rather, it all comes back to inflict itself on the pissed girl's nerves. At least the pain part does. Pain transfer. First mutation. Second, life absorption. During this chick fight, Niki discovered two things. She could transfer her pain to anyone around her, and she could also heal herself by sucking an appropriate amount of life from someone else. This also made her sober enough to realize what was going on. She had just grazed the surface of her abilities, which she would keep secret most of her teen life. It freaked her out. She never really used them much after that night, until…

Her water broke. And here's this bitch— the blushing bride of Niki's baby's daddy— stuffing her man's clothes into a suitcase. Niki stopped her screaming, threats, and furious cell phone dialing to Marty's number long enough to feel the sick liquid dampening her jammy bottoms. "Oh, God." Theresa— the bitch's name— didn't believe her. "I need to go to the hospital," she murmured. Theresa didn't believe her, still. "Don't try and pull that sympathy shit," Nikita would recall her saying. That's when Niki grabbed the woman's hand, and squeezed it as the first contraction hit. Theresa squealed, Niki didn't. "I need to go. NOW." But Theresa was in a panic. "What are you doing to me?!" she had screamed.

"NOTHING, yet!" Another contraction. Theresa squealed again. And that's when she ran. Nikita felt the next contractions, alone in her apartment. She could control pain, but when she actually had to feel it— with no one around to put it on— it terrified her. She staggered down the stairs and to the streets. She called Marty. He wouldn't answer. She called daddy, but mother dearest picked up. Her mother seemed ready to relent and help, but Nikita had to be a smartass and the hag hung up. When she tried to call back, the phone was off the hook. Her dad didn't have a cell phone.

So, long story short, Nikita gave birth that night to a bouncing baby boy in the bathroom of a 7 Eleven at 2am, after five hours of labor. That's as far as she got on the lawn mower she jacked from the apartment shed. The clerk behind the counter convulsed on the floor as he took on the brunt of her contractions. Yeah, sure, he tried to call 911 when he thought he was dying, but the line never got through when he got the chance. The poor guy. Probably the only guy to get anywhere close to experiencing childbirth. Not only did he have to deal with her stumbling out and using him as a source to heal herself, when he recovered he also had to deal with the mess left in the bathroom. Talk about a shitty night.

Nikita wanted to leave the kid in the bathroom. Or just drop it somewhere. But even she wasn't that cruel. With no more Marty, no parental help, and having pretty much alienated everyone else, her next stop was to the General Hospital. She dropped the kid off and left. She didn't look back. When she returned to the apartment, she ransacked it. Neither Marty nor Theresa returned in time to save much of anything. All of Marty's crap, she sold or trashed. Most of that money she drank. A week later, she stuck a pipe bomb in the exhaust of Marty's beloved '68 Pontiac GTO. Bam! It's the only thing she could take from him that she knew he really cared about.

After that, her life was pretty much downhill. Straight into a bottle. She's waitressed here and there, mostly at sketchy Bars. She never could reduce herself to prostitution, surprisingly, though the offer did come her way. That lawn mower she jacked from the apartments became her form of transportation— not that she uses it, really. She just sort of keeps it for some reason. It's really the only thing she's got left from that hellhole of her past. Right now, she's stuck in lower Manhattan— in the crap part of town, scraping her money between rent and booze that she earns from a biker bar just a block away. She does a little singing and writing, too— mostly punk rock or heavier stuff. Her half assed band, if you could even call it that, hasn't ever caught a real gig, though.

She really can't blame anyone but herself for where she is. But, really, she doesn't blame anyone. It's in the blood, she'd say. Just in the blood to not give a shit. She's just waiting for an opportunity she can care about, and hopefully that opportunity will pay cash.


- Pain absorption and Transfer: Acting on her own senses, Niki can transfer her pain to anyone close by— usually the cut off is about 25 feet. The closer, the more intense. Not to be confused with damage, she still will take on physical damage— just not feel it, if someone else is close enough to be tagged with it. She can also absorb pain from someone else. In addition, as long as she is touching both parties, she can transfer pain from one individual to another. For some reason, this ability also seems to affect other stimuli. If she's drunk, she can become sober by transferring it to someone else. Same with the effects of most drugs, though for these transfers she needs physical contact.

- Healing, Life Absorption: Niki can heal, but only if she has something to heal from. She has to absorb health from someone or something else, whether human, animal, or plant. She can also heal others in this manner, whether by taking health from herself or another source.


  • What's happened since you've been approved?


  • "I said it!"


  • Amazing thing!
  • Amazing thing!
  • Amazing thing!
  • Amazing thing!


Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License