Lorraine - Dead Cell San Francisco
1:6 scale


First Place Winner in the Dead Cell Category, Triad Toys Halloween Contest 2010


Triad Alpha Medium Bust Body with flat feet and custom handpainted dragon and cross tattoos
Triad Female Headscuplt 02 with custom hairdo and re-paint
BBi Cy Girl Fingerless Gloved hands
Triad Agent 2.0 sleeveless white knit pullover shirt
Triad Harley Chic 3.0 Black Zippered tank top
GI Joe Sigma Six Heavy Duty BDU pants with custom hand stitched brown leather patches and “BITE THIS” hand embroidered on the back
Unknown white socks
ZC Kathy Lolita Spy black jacket with studs removed and replaced with hand stitched brown leather patches and dragon emblem hand painted on back
DID or Dragon high top lace up leather boots
Accessories and weapons:
Unknown black and white shemagh head scarf, washed and softened
Unknown black stretch belt at waist
DID or Dragon green military web belt
Triad metal glaives in custom leather holder for belt
Triad metal stakes in custom leather arm band holder with metal buckle
Dagger by auret in my custom leather sheath
Wooden stakes custom hand carved and stained, one in leather thigh holder, the others on ZC Rosanna’s duffle bag customized to hold the stakes
Unknown M18 Green Smoke grenade
Crossbow with grenades and arrows from cbgorby
Custom built flamethrower with harness (almost all from scratch)
Paints used: Games Workshop Acrylics, MSC matte spray




The Set

The environment set piece Dead Cell San Francisco Twin Peaks – Skyview Bunker:
Foam Core boards
Interior Flat Latex paint with Games Workshop acrylics
Bricks – cut up wooden garden stakes and vinyl spackle
Weapons walls – plastic shim sets still attached, hooks from aluminum sheeting
Trims – basswood and balsa wood
Baseboards – wooden stakes
Air Duct section – 1:1 metal duct elbow
Pole supports – threaded pipe, pvc plumbing fittings, epoxy clay
Faux ceiling – rain gutter metal mesh cover
Shelving – white jewelry box bottoms
Map – custom designed print showing Dead Cell locations and sewing pins showing current creature outbreaks (yellow) and dead cell activity (red)
Table – basswood, balsa wood, aluminum sheeting, square brass tubes (painted hammered aluminum)
Seating crates – metal conduit boxes stacked and painted
Custom made books
Table lamp – 1:1 clip on reading light
Glass and plastic jars filled with various potions and stuff
Chest – formerly purple and turquoise doll chest, painted, knob accents and feet added
Rug – scrap fabric with 4 edges unraveled
Decoration – paper clock, brass dragon pendant
Miscellaneous weapons and accent pieces

Set 2
Set 3
Set 6
Set 4
Set 9
Set 10
Set 11
The Back Story

Dead Cell – San Francisco Network – Sutro Unit - Twin Peaks Sub-unit (hey, it’s big town)
June 16, 2020
It’s quieted down a little. Ol’ One-Eye (Wanai to those close to him) suggested that I start writing a chronicle, ya know, for the future, for the survivors, if we have any. It's my birthday and Wanai seems to hold some significance to that.

I guess I’ll start with the basics. My unit, the Twin Peaks Sub-unit (TPSU) is run by a young man, Alan, who took over when Wanai stepped down. He’s o.k. The old man trained him best he could but he can be a little rash. Now Wanai, he’s a real gem. No one knows exactly how old he is, he just looks very weathered and battle-worn. They say he lost one eye and his left arm in a great battle thirty years ago in a Middle Eastern Desert. His other eye is half-blind with cataracts now but his mind is as sharp as a vamp’s fang. We keep him around and take care of him as a great elder. He has lots of great advice and share’s lots of stories and has a knack for military strategy and for keeping peace in our unit and several others we communicate with most. He hums and sings a lot, bits and pieces. Whenever I come back to the den he sings “Sweet Lorraine”, something from the 70’s…started calling me that a year ago, don’t know why, don’t necessarily consider myself “sweet”.

Lorraine, that’s me. I was born and raised in this city, long after “the days”. Came into this world the year before the big turn of the century and before the fairy-tale life in the U.S. came to an end. Made it partway through high school but learned more from the streets. I like to read so I would break into the library, still do sometimes, and “borrow” a few books. Most of them got returned. Not much else to tell. Joined the cell after Sophomore year. They talk me how to fight, administer first aid, how to survive in this brave new world.

Our unit is small and is based on the west side of the southern hump of the peaks behind the top row of houses. The house, the house I grew up in, has always been connected to Dead Cell. Who knew? Not me. Not my parents. The main entrance to the main tunnel is below the house but had been long blocked and covered up. My family moved to far northern corner of the big “C” and left the house in my care. After I joined the cell we found a cover family (a couple with no children and two of their parents) to live there. False walls were constructed in several rooms to stashed weapons and supplies. The entrance to the tunnel was reopened. The more dangerous ordinance is kept in another pocket of the hill.

The peaks themselves are part of an old volcano making the ground harder than hard. Luckily a few pockets where discovered and tunnels were tediously excavated to connect to the house and in-between pockets. To keep sane and some ‘semblance of hope we take turns sleeping in the house, hot shower (rationed of course) and a good meal. The peaks are one of the few safe places in the city when the earth starts grumbling.

The peaks used to be a big lover’s lane and party place some say, but only the stupid try that these days and then we end up saving their worthless lives. It may be out in the open but it is also a way to get trapped if you don’t get back to your vehicle in time.

Still, on quiet days like today I like to go to the very top and let the wind talk to me. I even sneak out sometimes at night to watch the stars. They say that a long time ago you could see a whole bunch of stars, then the city got cramped, full of nightlife and blinded the sky. Now, the city is darker so you can see the stars again, mostly. Orion, the hunter, is my favorite grouping. I like to fancy that he watches over me. People tell me there are guardian angels, old wives tales. If there are angels, where are they? We could definitely use a few battalions of them here. No, I’ll stick with what I can see, and I can see Orion.

Back to Alan, he’s ruggedly handsome, a sweet talker, con-man….spent some time in the military, well-trained but never saw battle till he joined Dead Cell. He’s a sharp shooter, near sniper, and is also handy with the baseball bat he carries with him everywhere. Says he was part of a b-ball team on base and considers the bat his lucky charm. He calls it Winona (what is it with that name and guys anyway?). He can also be a royal pain in the ass. But Wanai trusts him, so we trust him.

TPSU. We’re small because the Sutro Unit, our “mother” unit is based right next door based under Sutro Tower. This unit is also the main headquarters for the city. Their main purpose is to keep communication lines open and guard the tower for that purpose and to guard the two reservoirs, one open and one below ground and because too many creatures like to climb the eye sore and cause damage. And, they would love to get their hands on the transmitters. The unit is housed in the large maintenance complex at the base of the tower. A lucky few get to climb the tower. I’m waiting my turn.

The SF network has units mainly based in high places. Heck in a city with 50 hills and skyscrapers, why not? We use a visual means of communication when the city goes “dark”, power outages, brownouts and such….Morse code, in code. The code changes on a regular basis, ciphers run via courier between units. In a matter of minutes word can get out to all units using this method and pre-assigned call lists. Some of the more prominent units are Coit Tower on Telegraph Hill, St Mary’s Cathedral on Cathedral Hill (very few baddies try to attack this one), Mount Davidson (the cross keeps some away, gotta love superstition), Mount Davidson to name a few. The main creature detention center is on Treasure Island and is guarded by the Yerba Buena Island unit.

Besides communications, the Muni and Bart tunnels and the docks need to be constantly patrolled. The transportation tunnels are about the extent of any underground to the city. Individual buildings may have subterranean levels and there has always been the rumor of underground bunkers at the Presidio.

The beasties managed to take over the old Mint complex so that is one of their headquarters. Some say it happened before the city realized what was happening. They have also set up camp at the Cow Palace near the edge of town using it for their gladiator like fights, and ironically as stockyards and slaughterhouse. Not exactly the intent of the builders.

SF has always been one of the cultural and racial melting pots of the West Coast. And that hasn’t changed, although you can know add several undead “human” versions and named and unnamed species of creatures and demons. They fight amongst themselves a lot, the brains against the brawn. Some of the vamps can be quite intelligent and reserved but when it comes down to it they are all arrogant and that is their main weakness.

Rumor has it there are migrations of some real oddies coming up from the south; mutations or maybe hybrids. Join the party boys.

Other rumors say the Mayor has struck a deal with several enemy factions. After all, they still need humans for slave labor, food and technological and medical advancement. If they deplete the human population, they themselves will degrade and end up in a Dark Age, then a barbaric age, and possibly back to the Stone Age. No one with a brain really wants that. Still we fight them and try to eradicate their asses.

I can’t remember the date of the first wave of invaders. I don’t keep count of the number of kills I make or friends and comrades lost or innocents slain. Numbers are depressing and life can be depressing enough without worrying about numbers. When someone asks me how many I’ve killed I just answer “Does it matter?”