Casey became tense when the conversation took a turn for the worse. Maybe some part of him made him contemplate whether or not he should have been readying his gun; after all, Ace was pretty much establishing himself as a direct enemy right then and there. But, he just didn't really... have the stomach to, apparently.

He did raise a brow at Geoff's back-turning, huffing exhibition, though. Whatever the case, he chose to remain silent, and just sit there with his jaw locked, and awaited the moment when he would either have to do something, or be allowed to relax enough to let his butt unclench the seat he was sitting on. Talk about an uncomfortable moment.

Ivan was completely unsurprised by the turn of events. The reason he wasn't, Ace had cited in short order. After all, everyone present was there to witness his reconciliation with Rock. The rabbit looked around at everyone as the less-than-comfortable conversation panned out.

It's not often that he felt unsure of what to do, and he hated the feeling. So much so, that he would pressure himself to act in spite of it, worrying about regret or repercussions after the fact. Without warning and without acknowledging Pax's last ditch effort to reel Ace in, he stood from his seat, eyes locked on the cat who declared his status as an enemy, pulling his pistol from it's holster, pulling the hammer back with his thumb as he lined it up with Ace's chest.

"Nothin' personal," He said without a hint of his usual drunken jolliness, and without further ado, pulled the trigger.

There was a loud bang as the weapon let loose it's projectile, and despite it's archaic design, it had quite a bit of kick to it, knocking him on his ass, as he didn't properly root for it. For all intents and purposes, it was an arm cannon.

Ivan saw the counter attack coming, but didn't have the time to really do anything about it. The gun was knocked from his hands by the explosive contact of the chaos-infused card.

Ivan didn't miss a beat though, kicking off the ground and launched himself at the cat at blinding speed, throwing a clenched fist at the alleycat's gut with every intent to knock the wind out of his lungs.

Ivan made an effort to avoid the vice grip of his opponent, but with those big floppy ears were just too hard to control and the serval would inevitably be successful in grabbing one or even both of them. The result was the same. His head would jerk as he tried to move around the serval's right side.

"Herk."

In retaliation, he brought his arm up to grab Ace's neck, or the front of his shirt. If he managed that, he'd pivot his body. He only needed enough leeway to bring a leg behind the serval so he could proceed to push the serval over he leg(while simultaneously dragging his leg back into Ace's legs). The intented result would be to pull Ace's legs out from under him and throw him to the ground. Assuming the attack's success, regardless of whether or not Ace retained his grip, Ivan went down with him, throwing elbow down on his chest.

The full gamut from tension, to surprise, then resignation had run across Casey's face in the course of a few seconds. He had scraped his chair back and stood up abruptly, but when the time came to do move, he did so quite slowly. He knew better than to interrupt Ivan when he was brawling mano y mano, but nonetheless plodded quickly over to stand at the ready by the door to the elevator lobby.

He hiked his pants up a little higher with a tug at his belt and wore a tight-lipped "welp" face.

"Better get used to this, Agent Gardyner," he called over the noise of the scuffle to the dog, who was pretty openly wigging out. "Friends are one thing, but allies are just enemies who don't have enough incentive to fight'cha yet!"

...

"Git'im, Ivan! Go to the body!"