Roxy watched Eggsy run toward her while one brow raising as she smirked slightly--the only muscles that didn't seem to ache, it seemed, were her sarcasm-including ones. She blinked, shooting him a sort of Look, before letting her head lay back so she could stare up at the far-off ceiling.
"Well...how bad is it?" she asked.
Truth be told she was feeling about as bad as she looked and, fortunately, though she might have fractured a bone or two, nothing appeared broken, out of place, or twisted. Roxy was, however, covered in cuts and scrapes of varying degrees of intensity, her normally well-pressed and suave suit tattered to reveal flesh. The elbows and knees looked as if she had been in a motorcyclist's accident, worn from hitting and rolling over the asphalt, among other parts nearby. In some of the threads were pieces of debris, shattered wood and splintered glass that had come with her from the mansion's ultimate demise. The worst of it, without removing any of her attire, seemed to be a gash across her brow that disappeared into her hairline over the right temple.
She would, however, be able to make a swift recovery.