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Ch-tkt accepted the handshake, though the manner they did suggested plenty of care was taken. His arms were as much weapons as they were functional utilities. And that went beyond the in-build guns and various compartments. The carefulness also suggested at least some degree of kindness hidden away under his outward display of self-servitude. Ch-tkt had been through much in his life thus far, and his coldness was more a defence mechanism than a reflection of his true self - albeit one he had strongly embraced and accepted into his identity.

Ch-tkt wasn't expecting a tip in this particular venue, but accepted it anyway. He was, after all, a survivor. Hi first tastes of freedom were filled with scavenging and desperation; and much of that was even before he had finally found replacement for the arms he had long since been parted from. His introduction to currency had also come fairly late into his life, so he didn't think of it as some necessity central to everything. It was a very useful luxury that enabled his current endeavours. He had never once felt bad accepting credits that he might not have deserved.

His own farewell was a small nod and a throaty noise that seemed to be some sort of casual acknowledgement in his native language.