Criminals, Psychos, and Evil-doers Are Always Welcome!

I'm trying to develop my antagonist before I start writing the story, but I'm having a little trouble. This'll probably be more of a mature chat. I don't mind swearing as long as it isn't every other word. Anyways...

The setting: A mass meeting for all of the villains.

Format using my charrie's info.
Name: Damian Sharp
Gender: M
Age: 21
Appearance: Shaggy dark brown hair. Blue-green eyes. 5' 7". Wiry frame.
Looks pretty much like Val Kilmer, here's a pic: http://reneeashleybaker.files.wordpress.com/2007/11/val-kilmer.jpg
Noticeable scar going along his left forearm.
Has this tattoo on right shoulder: http://www.flickr.com/photos/33503523@N04/3496275844/

Quirks: When he's angry, he speaks from the corner of his mouth slightly. Constant/frequent smoker. Fidgets and is more irritable when he hasn't a cigarette an hour since the last one.
Past/Traumatic Event: His father murdered his mother when he was 12. His father immediately left after trying to kill Damian too.

*whistles, waiting for someone to join*
And I forgot to mention weaknesses are needed too, Damian's being his lost love who he had to leave to seek revenge on his father.

My character isn't exactly a villain, but he's not exactly a nice guy either.

Name: Yellow Angel - Codename: Hastur
Gender: Is academic. Sees himself as male.
Age: Hard to say. Fourty-odd years as a human before being transformed into Yellow Angel.
Appearance: The Yellow Angel is a vast mechanical creature, vaguely insectoid, with short thick stubby limbs. It is sheathed in some kind of ceramic or plastic armour, painted a dull yellow. It has no discernible head, only blinking lights and mechanical parts. It is about the size of an articulated lorry trailer, and is controlled by a human brain inside it. The Yellow Angel also possesses a humanoform, or humanoid robot it uses to interact with smaller creatures. The humanoform appears as a figure cloaked all in yellow bandages with a blank white mask covering its face.
Weaknesses: High-calibre anti-armour rounds. Can be thwarted by suitably advanced anti-biotics.

Name: Mr.Face
Gender: Male
Age: 70
Appearance: 8 feet tall, and pale as a sheet of paper. The only feature on his face is his mouth, full of pointed teeth. No eyes. No nose. He's thin, and dresses in business suits.
Quirks: Exceptionally polite. To the point that it's creepy. He's also blind, as a result of not having any eyes. He echolocates to compensate for the lack of vision, and Tends toward a stiff, formal vocabulary. His weapon of choice is the exacto knife. He's a sadistic sociopath, and enjoys spending long afternoons in cellblock 5, ripping out people's spines.
Past/Traumatic events: Abandoned as a result of genetic facelessness when he was small and raised by internet monks. He returned to his parents at the age of 15. They rejected him a second time so he burned them and their house to the ground. He got into politics, and led a coup, overturning the monarchy in the city of Auda, and installed himself as dictator. This was all in attempt to take control of the internet (their god) so that he could attain immortality.
Weakness: He's an agoraphobe. He won't voluntarily leave the house, because the large open spaces make it more difficult for him to echolocate. He also hates carpeting and drywall, for their reverbratory qualities.

Can I join?

Oh, sure! Go ahead!

[yay-ness]
Name: Jett Malachite
Gender: F
Age: 17
Appearance: http://us.cdn4.123rf.com/168nwm/suricoma/suricoma0904/suricoma090400170/4728822-portrait-of-a-young-dark-haired-girl-in-the-red-background.jpg
Quirks: likes doing acrobatic moves; flips, roundoffs, and the like. Also, she's a super-villan. Her power is extremely sensitive hearing.
Post-Traumatic events: Huge bomb went off, now super villans are in charge, but her ex is a good guy.
Weakness: Can't shoot a gun, loud noises pain her.

(All right. I think we have enough charries. Might as well start while I'm on.)
Damian strolled into the abandoned warehouse, cigarette clamped securely between his lips. He surveyed the large room slowly and carefully, one question going through his mind. Why wasn't anyone here yet? He doubted someone would be vain or arrogant enough to be 'fashionably late', but he'd been wrong before. He rolled his eyes, and stuffed his hands into his jeans pockets, each footfall echoing throughout the almost empty building as he walked to the center. Might as well wait then, he thought.

((Is first person permitted? I will edit post accordingly if not.))

Mr.Face:

I hated car travel. Well, I typically hated travel of all kind, but I was quickly discovering that car travel in particular was a special brand of loathsome. You knew you were travelling through space, but...One had no idea what the relative space looked like, and what direction one was going as aligned with the rest of the planet. And I had to rely on a driver. I was pleased to get out of the car.
Upon reaching my destination...A large, metal, construction it sounded like...I immediately started searching for the door. Doors...were notoriously hard to hear. Especially when it could be assumed that the door and the walls were made of the same materials.
After several minutes, I was able to locate the door, and made it inside. I prefer inside. So much more...discernable. And due to the construction materials, everything was wonderfully audible. I could hear someone standing in the centre of the room. Well...about three inches off, but...That was being pedantic.
"Good afternoon..." I said calmly, wondering if he was running the show.

Hastur's humanoform glides down the alleyway outside with a barely perceptible rustling of faded yellow cloth. Gloved hands push open a door at the far end of the warehouse, and the King in Yellow, as he has been known once or twice, enters the hall. He leaves a trail almost like a slug behind himself as he moves. His voice emanates from the stained yellow hood as a hiss.
"Am I not on time?"

(I don't mind what POV is used. That's your choice, after all.)
Damian turned towards both of the newcomers, and immediately wondered if when he made his way through the door, he had stepped into the Twilight Zone. He regained the little composure he lost. He greeted, keeping his earlier annoyance out of the words, and replacing it with politeness that had a humorous tone he couldn't help, "Gentlemen, it's nice of you to come." He paused, "I think we're short one person though."

"Who is the one who is missing?" asks Hastur. "I did not know that others were meant to be present."

Jett- I stumble in a minute later. "There is, actually," I reply to the guy in yellow bandages, I straighten up and turn towards the one with brown hair. "Sorry I'm late."

"And you are...?" Hastur lets the sentence hang in the air like a noxious fume.

Jett- "None of your business, sunflower."

"Now that we're all here," Damian interrupted, "I believe none of you are aware you're in danger of being found out. Usually, threats like this are from idiots who either run their mouths or are just asking to be killed...but this guy seems more..." He paused, "skillful than that. He definitely covers his tracks well. None of my guys can find anything about him...therefore, I need some help."

Jett- "So what's he threatening?"

Mr.Face:

I was unaware that I'd had anything to hide...I mean...I was the dictator of my own citystate. It was a pretty efficient, semi-transparent governmental system that was slowly ruining the lives of thousands. Oh...But there was the whole...Supplementary Research thing that I was doing...Hm. "How may I be of assistance then?" I asked at the same time as the latecomer.

Damian sighed, "Ya see...that's also part of the problem. I'm not sure what to do except try and find something on this guy. That means strings have to be pulled," He motioned towards himself, "but somebody like me can't do that, to a point. Get what I mean?"

"We could release a neurotoxin-emitting super-virus, and when he stops threatening us, we know he's probably dead."
Hastur pauses.
"I have a selection of several fine ailments ready to go."

"All right, that would work if this guy wasn't unknown." Damian was thankful that he hadn't said 'faceless' like he was thinking. "Once we find him, you could go through with that...any other possible ways, just in case?"

Jett- "So, if there isn't /any/ DNA on the letters, s/he's obviously very skilled." I sigh. "Assuming their human at all."

Mr.Face:

"I have a book of faces I would be willing to lend you...Provided you don't leave this space while using it. It...Rather predictably allows you to identify people by their faces, and find out a myriad of other personal information regarding the person from there." I suggested. Of course, there would always be the rare person who showed up as a blank face. Not unlike myself...although, I showed up as a blank face in a suit, instead of just...whatever the latter option was. Someone had informed me of that. Having a book of faces and no eyes with which to look at them was a bit...frustrating, but I still managed to make the thing useful.

Can i join?

"This wasn't a typed letter, it was one of those cliche cut-and-paste out of magazine clippings." Damian told to Jett before regarding Mr. Face, "That book sounds more than useful. Then we'd be able to pick out people to look into."

(Of course you can join.)