Q chuckled at his remark about cheating death. Explaining how he lived would do no good. "You know, drinking my blood might make you wish you didn't." he said as his sword glowed a light blue. Q kept his garb on, not in the mood to expose more of himself to possible incapacitation. He swung his sword around in his right hand, his left hand seeming to radiate a sort of mist, similar to what dry ice would make.