About “Stargirl” in a few words:

In the Stargirl series, the Injustice Society is a group of supervillains who seek to take over the world and establish a new order. Led by the enigmatic Icicle, the group is made up of some of the most dangerous and cunning villains in the DC Universe, including the likes of Brainwave, Sportsmaster, Tigress, and the Fiddler. Each member brings a unique set of skills and abilities to the table, making them a formidable force to be reckoned with. Throughout the series, the Injustice Society’s ultimate plan is slowly revealed, as they attempt to eliminate any threats to their cause, including the new generation of heroes led by Stargirl.

Meet Stargirl’s Injustice Society members

The Gambler

Oh man, The Gambler is that flashy, unpredictable cardshark who treats every scheme like a high-stakes poker game — total showman energy. He’s all about odds, theatrics, and dramatic entrances (fedora, cards fanned out, the whole visual), but somehow also paranoid about tiny things like seat choices — weird, right? He’ll gamble everything on one bold move and then duck and hide when the heat’s on, which is either brilliant strategy or pure cowardice depending on the day. Loves a one-liner, hoards useless lucky charms, and somehow always has a trick up his sleeve even when you swore he had none.

The Fiddler

Okay, picture a murderous virtuoso who plays you into a trap — that’s The Fiddler: eerie, meticulous, and somehow poetic about sabotage. He’s simultaneously soothing and terrifying; his violin can charm a room or literally make things fall apart, and yes, he hums the tune later while sipping black coffee like it was a lullaby. He has weirdly gentle moments (plants, old sheet music, that kind of thing) but then will gleefully pull a wire and ruin everything, so… mixed signals. Secretly sentimental about a childhood cranky aunt, which explains some of the melancholy in his music but not the explosives.

Tigress

Tigress is a slick, feral warrior — graceful, vicious in a purrling kind of way, and absolutely loves the hunt (and probably owns three collars she never wears). She’s acrobatic, clever with traps, and has this feline elegance that makes her both gorgeous and terrifying in a fight; sometimes she’s tender, weirdly maternal toward certain teammates, which throws you off. She collects weird little trophies (like a cufflink or a ribbon) but will deny it fiercely if you call her a hoarder. Honestly, you can picture her sipping tea and then ripping your throat out five minutes later — charming!

Sportsmaster

Sportsmaster is the ultimate jock villain — obsessed with rules, competition, and sports-themed intimidation, complete with gadgets that would make a PE teacher proud. He’s a coach, a showman, and a brute who treats fights like games, which can be annoyingly efficient, and he keeps score in his head (and on actual scorecards, yes really). He has a softish spot for discipline and kids (ugh) but then will use them as pawns without blinking so don’t get too comfy. Wears an obnoxious tracksuit sometimes, whistles a lot, and definitely hoards trophies like small, sinister trophies.

Dragon King

Dragon King is pure mad-scientist vibes crossed with occult emperor energy — cold, calculated, and obsessed with making himself something more than human. He’s terrifyingly methodical, loves the lab, and collects monstrous plans like others collect stamps; also, weirdly, he’s picky about his teacups. He’s the kind of villain who smiles while explaining in excruciating detail how he’ll ruin you, and yes, he’s dramatic enough to name his pet lizard a warlord. There’s a brittle pride beneath his cruelty though, like a guy who reads opera before committing atrocities — annoying but oddly cultured.

The Wizard

The Wizard is old-school, theatrical villainy with a side of grift — hypnosis, illusions, and lots of velvet robes in your head. He’s pompous, loves demonstration (flashy spells, showy reveals), and will try to make every minor victory into a grand monologue because why not. He’s not above petty tricks either; you’ll catch him pocketing a candy wrapper and calling it a relic. For all the smoke and mirrors, there’s a loner’s insecurity under the act — and he chews pens when he’s thinking, gross but true.

The Shade

The Shade is deliciously gloomy and mysterious — ancient, cynical, slow to act but devastating when he does, like a storm cloud that finally decides to open up. He manipulates shadows in a way that’s almost poetic; sometimes he’s mentor-y, sometimes he’s just a brooding presence sipping bitter tea and offering cryptic lines. He’ll help you one minute and betray you the next, not out of malice exactly but because his moral compass is made of fog. Also collects old poetry books and matchbooks, which makes him adorable in a weirdly morbid way.

Icicle

Icicle is chilly in every sense — literally freezes things with a sneer and emotionally colder than an Arctic wind, but with a very tidy suit and a disturbing fondness for holiday music. He’s calm, businesslike, and has this unsettling “fatherly provider” vibe that masks how ruthlessly single-minded he is about his goals. He bakes pies? Maybe. He’ll announce he loves family dinners and then freeze the stove, so don’t read too much into the domestic talk. Honestly feels like someone who collects snow globes and then uses them as tiny prisons for his enemies.

Solomon Grundy

Solomon Grundy is a lumbering, tragic force of nature — slow speech, huge fists, and a heart that’s sometimes small and sweet and sometimes a rock of rage. He’s kind of childlike (like “I am Grundy” levels of simplicity) and also terrifyingly unstoppable; one minute he’s clutching a flower he found and the next he’s smashing a car, so mood swings are real. There’s a mournful, melancholy undercurrent — lost, confused — but also this grim determination to exist and be noticed. He collects weird things like tin toys and will absolutely get distracted by a duck in a pond mid-battle.

Brainwave

Brainwave is that brilliant-but-terrifying mastermind who makes you feel like your thoughts aren’t yours — cold, controlling, and frighteningly intelligent. He’s the kind of villain who will read your motives like a grocery list and then fold you into his grand plan with clinical efficiency; also quietly insecure, which is deliciously human. He’s paternal in a very unhealthy way, loves order and crossword puzzles, and carries a tiny rubber stamp collection for reasons that make no sense. Dangerous, smug, and sometimes inexplicably sentimental about old report cards.